POV: Clara

Morning came gray and cold, a smear of dull light leaking through the blinds.

It was too quiet.

Too quiet outside, and inside too quiet for how loud my head was pounding. There were no sirens. No engines. No people leaving for work or walking dogs or living their normal lives. Just the drip of water from the eaves and the tether’s pulse inside my chest, soft but regular as a second heartbeat.

I stood barefoot at the window, staring at the street ...