Nora's POV
Steam rises from my coffee mug as I cradle it between my palms, watching thick snowflakes drift down like cotton balls from the gray sky. Zerra bounces through the white powder, her black fur dusted with crystals as she snaps at falling flakes with pure joy. For a hellhound who spends most of her time in the underworld, this winter wonderland must feel like stepping into a fairy tale.
The clock reads ten-thirty, and this is already my second cup. Half decaf, because I'm trying to be responsible about my caffeine intake, but I need something to keep my nerves steady. More than a week has passed since that disturbing dream in the ash forest, and the silence has been deafening. No demonic activity, no supernatural incidents, nothing but ordinary days that feel anything but normal.
