MAILAH FELL ASLEEP clutching Lailah's bracelet, tears still wet on her cheeks, Grayson's gifts scattered around her like promises made tangible.
When sleep finally claimed her, it didn't bring rest.
It brought visions.
She stood in a vast room filled with faces—hundreds of them, maybe thousands. All watching. All waiting. The air hummed with power so dense it pressed against her skin like a physical weight.
She wore white. The dress from the fitting, but it shimmered differently here—alive somehow, responding to her racing pulse.
"Mailah."
Grayson's voice. She turned, searching for him in the crowd.
But the faces had no features. Just blank spaces where eyes and mouths should be, all turning toward her in perfect synchronization.
"Choose," they whispered in unison. "Choose what you're willing to lose."
