TERESA'S P.O.V.
Leaving the city I'd called home for twenty-five years felt surreal, as if I were trapped in some feverish dream fueled by desperation, terror, and the faintest glimmer of hope. I'd built my entire life there—my memories, my connections, my identity—and yet, here I was, abandoning it all. As I drove, the thought of Lucian loomed in my mind, an inescapable shadow. Once, he was the man I adored, the man I thought loved me, but that illusion had shattered, leaving only a bitter sting of hatred and betrayal. I couldn't shake the image of his eyes, cold and unfeeling, the moment he turned on me. I'd never forget it.
