EMMA'S POV
The morning arrived quietly, the way mornings did when something important had already shifted beneath the surface. Emma woke before the light fully crept into the room, her eyes opening to the soft gray of early dawn. For a moment, she lay still, listening. The city outside her window breathed in muted rhythms—distant traffic, a stray laugh from someone walking home too late or too early, the hum of life continuing without pause. It reminded her that the world never stopped moving, even when parts of her felt suspended in place.
She sat up slowly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Her phone lay face down on the nightstand. She didn't reach for it immediately. That, in itself, was new. There had been a time when waking meant checking—messages, updates, signs of reassurance. Now, she let the quiet settle first, allowed her thoughts to arrive without urgency.
Damian had been gone for weeks.
