EMMA'S POV
The night did not end with answers. It ended with silence—thick, pressing, the kind that rang louder than shouting. Dawn crept in slowly, pale light spilling across the broken courtyard where everything had shifted and nothing had truly settled.
Aren stood at the edge of the stone steps, hands clenched, watching the horizon bleed from black to gray. The decision he'd made hours earlier still sat heavy in his chest. There was no undoing it now. Some paths, once taken, refused to bend back.
Behind him, Lysa stirred. She had not slept, not really. None of them had. Her eyes were sharp despite the exhaustion, fixed on Aren as if she were afraid he might vanish the moment she looked away. "You're leaving," she said quietly. It wasn't a question.
Aren nodded. "If I stay, everything breaks again. Worse than before."
"You don't know that."
"I do." He turned then, finally meeting her gaze. "I've always known."
