The night had settled into an uneasy calm over Ravenport. Rain still fell lightly, leaving the streets slick and shimmering under the neon glow. The safe house, tucked away in a quiet alley, felt like an island in the chaos — a fragile refuge after the storm.

Elara sat cross-legged on the floor, her pendant warm against her chest. For the first time in her life, she could breathe freely, inhale the scent of wet earth and rain-soaked streets, feel the wind on her skin without walls or guards between her and the world. Her heart raced with exhilaration and fear. Freedom tasted strange — sweet, yet heavy with responsibility.