Skye's POV
The music from the party still clung to me like faint perfume—light, lingering, impossible to fully shake off. Each step I took away from the clearing pulled me further from the golden glow of lanterns, the sparkle of champagne flutes, and the swirl of laughter that had filled the air like a warm, intoxicating haze.
The sounds faded in layers—first the chatter, then the scattered applause, then the subtle hum of music until only a faint echo trailed behind me. It felt less like leaving a celebration and more like walking out of a dream. The kind that dissolves as soon as you open your eyes, leaving you both relieved and hollow.
I needed distance.
Not just from the noise, but from the weight pressing on my chest. I needed air that wasn’t laced with wine and perfume, air that
