*~Hazel's POV~*
Hazel's POV
I don't know how I did it, but somehow, I fell back to my knees—Aurora sprawled motionless on the floor before me.
The verse I had whispered in desperation, half-believing it would never work, must have carried more power than I'd realized. My body trembled, breath shallow, but the proof was there: Aurora, my friend… my jailer, lying crumpled, her head bent at an awkward angle.
I rushed to her side. "Aurora? Are you alright?"
No response.
She looked pale, feeble, her heartbeat still steady but faint beneath my palm. She hadn't died. She had only collapsed. Relief and dread warred inside me.
Part of me wanted to help her, to bandage her head, to revive her. But another part—the desperate part—screamed louder. If I healed her now, she'd wake. She'd trap me again. And this chance, this fleeting moment of freedom, would vanish.
I clenched my fists. I can't risk it. Not now.
This might be my only window to escape.
