Elena's POV
The fire still lived in my bones long after the flames were gone and we left.
Even hours later, on our way home, and the night swallowed the last echoes of sirens and collapsing steel, my body hadn't quite accepted that we were safe. My senses kept stretching outward, searching for heat signatures, psychic distortions, the echo of screams that no longer existed.
Sometimes, fire leaves behind scars you don't see. I am glad I had a brief time to connect and be open.
Adrian didn't speak on the ride back.
He had just sat across from me in the armored vehicle, his forearms braced on his thighs, head angled slightly downward. The flicker of passing streetlights cut sharp lines across his face, light, shadow, light again, like the world couldn't decide which version of him it wanted to keep.
I had watched his hands, they trembling slightly. It was not obvious; I only noticed the vibration because I was staring hard.
"You must be feeling burnt out," I said quietly.
