The next morning, I woke up before sunrise.
For a few seconds, I forgot where I was because of how tired I was from crying all night. Then everything came back.
The warning. The tears. The message I had sent during the night. I reached for my phone immediately.
Nothing. No reply yet from her.
I checked again, hoping I had somehow missed it. There was still nothing from my friend.
My chest tightened. I typed another message, then stopped. If she was in danger too, sending more messages might make things worse.
I placed the phone beside me and forced myself out of bed.
I could not stay locked inside my room forever.
By late morning, the house was unusually busy. Servants hurried through the halls, carrying trays and arranging flowers. Guards stood near the main entrance. Voices fille
