After I finished talking with Ava—after she finally agreed, with trembling resolve, to continue her legal fight for justice—I made my way back toward the terrace where Wane was waiting.
The conversation with her had drained me in a way I couldn’t easily explain. It wasn’t just the weight of her trauma or the courage it had taken for her to keep going. It was the way her fear still lingered in her eyes, the way her voice had cracked when she spoke about nights she couldn’t sleep, about shadows that felt too close. I had promised her I wouldn’t let her stand alone again. And I meant it—with every part of me.
By the time I returned, the party had shifted into something slower, heavier. The music was still playing, but it had softened, the bass less aggressive, the laughter more languid. Lan
