Roisin
My heart slammed against my ribs as I pressed my hand to the door of my room, hesitating for a breath before pushing it open. The hinges groaned, loud and slow, dragging through the silence like a blade through flesh. I stepped inside, the fading light of sunset bleeding across the walls in deep orange hues, casting long, sinister shadows that reached like claws across the floorboards.
Then I saw him.
Olivine stood at the far end of the room, facing away from me. His posture was tense, arms slightly lifted as if he’d just been rifling through something. He stilled the second the door creaked—like a predator caught mid-hunt. The air between us felt charged, too still, too dense.
I froze, half inside the room, the door left ajar behind me. My breath snagged in my throat. Something
