Chapter 116. Superstition
Amelia stared at the hand resting on her shoulder.
For a moment, she said nothing.
But slowly, the tension in her shoulders began to ease—just a little. She reached up and gently took Zyon’s hand, gripping it tightly. Her other hand wiped the last of the tears from her eyes.
"I know I’m not alone," she whispered. "But it feels like it. Every second. Every breath. I feel like I’m the only one who still believes we can save her."
"You’re not," Evelyn said firmly. "We believe it too. That’s why we haven’t left your side since."
Freya nodded. "That’s why we need to plan. Not act on emotion. If we lose ourselves to recklessness, we’ll fall into the same trap again."
Amelia didn’t reply right away.
But her eyes slowly softened. She looked to each of them—Zyon, Evelyn, Freya. And for the first time since she’d woken up, she let herself feel it:
Gratitude.
"Alright," she finally said, her voice steadier than before. "Let’s talk. We need to know who we’re dealing with. We need to find out what they want."
Zyon spoke first, voice low but resolute. "We’ve already started gathering any sort of intel we can. Art’s been moving non-stop—hopping between regions, chasing every whisper. But for now, we haven’t found anything substantial."