Nevara
The broken glass still clung to the edges of the frame, catching faint light from the bathroom as it scattered across the tile below. Even with the towel laid carefully over the jagged edge, the opening didn’t feel safe.
It felt possible.
Which was more dangerous.
For a moment, none of us spoke. The three of us stood there, looking at it as if it might change if we stared long enough—grow wider, lower itself, become easier.
It didn’t.
Thoren was the first to step back.
“We don’t use it yet,” he said.
I turned toward him immediately.
“Why not? We just—”
“Because we don’t have Jonas.”
The words cut clean through everything else.
The room shifted again, the urgency still there but forced back into something tighter, more controlled.
Kael nodded slightly, already moving in
