Chapter Fifty–two:
The neon glow of the city blurred into long, flickering streaks of light as Luna pushed her father's vintage Cafe Racer to its absolute limit. The wind screamed against her helmet—a hollow, relentless roar that mimicked the growing void in her chest. She roamed the grid of the sleeping metropolis for hours, weaving through the late-night traffic like a ghost passing through a fever dream. Her mind was a chaotic storm of imagery: Stephanie's smiling face on a tattered missing person's poster, and the ancient, gnarled roots of the Wolfmort Tree.
