Zara
The door closed behind Dmitri with a resounding click, and the room fell into suffocating silence. My chest heaved as I tried to steady my breathing, my hand instinctively clutching the edge of the table to keep myself upright. The plate of food lay untouched, the smell of roasted chicken now nauseating in the wake of his presence.
I turned back to the hidden compartment in the vanity, pulling out my journal again. My fingers grazed over the worn leather as I flipped through the pages. I wasn't just looking for answers this time—I was searching for strength. Somewhere within these scribbled notes lay the breadcrumbs I needed to escape this nightmare.
Dominic Vazklov.
The Cave.
The antidote.
Each name carried weight, a thread in the web Dmitri wove around me. If Mira couldn't uncover Dominic's connection to all this, I'd have to find another way. Time was running out, and with each passing day, Dmitri's grip on my life tightened.
