*Elena's POV — Morning*

The morning light was soft when Elena stirred, stretching gently beneath the silk covers.

Her body was slow to rise, not from sleep but from the quiet ache that now lived permanently in her bones. The kind of ache that wasn't physical anymore but emotional. The weight of knowing she was living on a line that could shift at any time.

She sat up slowly and turned toward the window where the sun spilled in through pale drapes, warming the room with a golden glow.

Then she saw it, something small and unexpected sitting atop her nightstand.

A folded piece of paper.

Crayon marks peeked out...