Chapter 77:

Kira’s POV:

The rain came down in soft sheets, tapping against the metal roof of the bus stand like a metronome marking the seconds of my spiraling thoughts. The air was damp and cold, the kind that settles into your bones and whispers that you’ll never quite be warm again.

The streetlights cast long shimmering shadows on the glistening pavement, turning the world into a wash of amber and gray.