The moment they passed the sign, something inside Sera tightened.
It wasn't dramatic at first. There was no sharp spike of fear, no sudden vision of cages or hands or needles. It was subtler than that.
It was the kind of wrongness that crept in quietly and made itself at home before you noticed it had arrived. Her humming didn't stop, but the tune shifted, slowed, looping back on itself like she couldn't quite remember where it was supposed to go next.
She stared out the windshield at the road stretching ahead of them, watching the sunlight thin as it slid closer to the horizon. The land looked the same as it had a mile ago. Flat. Dry. Wide open. And yet, it felt like the air had thickened, like the space inside the cab had shrunk just enough to notice.
Her chest felt tight.
Not injured. Not damaged. Just… tight. Like she'd pulled a shirt over her head that didn't quite fit anymore and hadn't realized it until she tried to breathe deeply.
