After resting enough, Ivy finally decided it was time to deal with the two people she hated the most.
The decision settled heavily in her chest, cold and sharp, yet strangely calming.
She changed into plain black clothes, fabric brushing softly against her skin, concealing every trace of weakness.
Silas stood nearby, watching her with quiet concern. His brows knitted together as he finally spoke,
"Are you sure you want to do this alone?"
Ivy turned toward him and smiled softly, her expression gentle enough to hide the storm beneath.
"If I truly need your help, I'll let you know," she replied. "But for now, I want to handle this myself."
Silas studied her face, worry deepening in his eyes.
"You shouldn't shoulder everything on your own," he said after a pause.
Ivy's voice remained calm, almost eerily so.
"If I don't deal with them with my own hands, I'll feel like I've become softer," she replied. "And I don't want that after my rebirth."
