Chapter 174

**Sloane**

The mornings belong to wraiths. Not the dead kind — the living ones. The ones who wake before the sun because silence sits too heavy on their chests and sleep never lasts long enough to matter. I’m up before the light, same as always. The compound’s still, dew clinging to the grass, air sharp enough to sting. Usually, it’s just me and the sound of birds waking up. But today, another lig