The morning after the betrayal broke over Ravenclaw in a silence that felt unnatural. Smoke still clung to the halls where Evelyn's chamber had burned, the scent of scorched wood mingling with something sharper — betrayal, grief, disbelief. The wolves moved through the corridors whispering, their eyes darting between the ruins of the Luna's quarters and the guarded entrance of the council room.
Evelyn stood outside, her cloak billowing in the wind, her gaze locked on the blackened doorway. The fire had died hours ago, yet the heat of what happened still burned inside her. George's laughter haunted her ears, echoing louder than the crackle of flames. She had trusted him more than most. He had eaten at her table, fought by her side, and shielded her when arrows flew. And now… he was the shadow she hadn't seen creeping beneath her feet.
Damien's voice broke through the storm of her thoughts. "Evelyn."
