Vedav’s room was right next to Meher’s. He wasn’t asleep—not even close. He’d heard the soft creak of her door when she stepped out, and without a second thought, he followed. Quietly. Carefully. Like a shadow chasing its light.

He stayed just far enough behind to not be noticed, but close enough to never lose her. When she reached the kitchen, he paused at the hallway’s edge, his back against the cold wall, eyes fixed on her silhouette. He could hear Paarth talking, and Meher’s voice in response—low, steady. And yet, it felt like a melody he’d been waiting his whole life to hear.