Elena’s POV

Saturday morning light filtered through the thin curtains of my bedroom in soft, uneven stripes. I woke later than usual, the kind of late that only happens when there is no alarm and no office waiting. For a few seconds I stayed still, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle around me.

Then my left hand shifted against the sheet and the unfamiliar weight on my finger pulled my attention down.

The ring.

I lifted my hand into the light. The stone caught what little sun there was and threw it back in quiet flashes.

Clean band. Understated fire. It looked like it had always belonged there,...