Chapter 6. Ghosts We Feed
Elara hadn’t planned to return to her childhood home so soon. The city had changed, towering ads and sharp glass buildings eating up the sky, but her old neighborhood looked the same.
Faded paint. Weeds breaking through sidewalk cracks. A familiar ache in her chest.
This wasn’t nostalgia.
It was unfinished business.
She walked up the steps to the Vance family brownstone and knocked. The door opened to reveal Luca, her younger brother, wearing a wrinkled shirt and headphones slung around his neck.
"El?" he said, startled.
"It’s me," she said, forcing a smile.
He hesitated. "You shouldn’t be here.
"I needed to see you. Is Mom home?"
He shook his head. "She’s out with her club friends. Pretending we still have money."
Elara stepped inside. The air smelled like old books and lemon cleaner, an attempt to preserve dignity.