Zara POV
The hum of the car engine faded as Aunty May’s driver pulled up to the dorm entrance. The rain from earlier had left the pavement slick, catching reflections of the streetlights that blurred like watercolor. Aunty May turned toward me with that warm, motherly smile that always made the tension in my chest ease just a little.
“Cheer up, Zara,” she said, leaning closer. “If anyone ever tries to confront you about… the incident, you tell me immediately. Don’t try to handle it alone.”
I nodded, slipping out of the car, the cool night air washing over me. Her concern was genuine, and I felt the faint warmth of being seen, truly seen, in a world where everyone else wanted to pin a crime on me.
“I will,” I murmured. She gave me one last reassuring smile before the driver pulled away.
