The door opened with a slow, deliberate creak.
Eleven girls knelt in uneven rows, shoulders shaking, eyes red from crying.
The air was heavy with fear, thick enough to cling to my skin. Maribel stepped forward, calm and composed, the earthen rod resting lightly in her hand.
One of the girls let out a sharp sob.
Another screamed.
The sound echoed violently down the corridor.
Before Maribel could raise her arm, footsteps approached.
Measured. Unhurried.
The screaming stopped abruptly.
A familiar presence washed over the room, subtle but undeniable. Authority without effort.
Elias entered first.
He walked as though he had all the time in the world, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
Then his right hand man. Cassian Hawke.
Cassian followed half a step behind him, eyes sharp, already assessing everything in the room.
Every girl stiffened.
One fainted outright.
Maribel paused, lowering the rod slightly.
"Elias," I said, surprised.
