Elena hesitated, eyes searching mine as if trying to read something beneath the surface—fear, doubt, hesitation. But there was nothing for her to find. I'd burned those feelings out long ago. Finally, she gave a small nod, almost imperceptible, and stepped back.
"Don't die," she murmured, voice barely audible.
I smirked. "Wouldn't want to ruin the show."
With that, she slipped out, the door closing softly behind her. The waiting room fell silent again, save for the faint echo of the crowd outside. The second semi-final must have been reaching its climax—one more storm before mine began.
I drew in a slow breath, feeling the air burn cold in my lungs. My heart beat steady, controlled. The dagger hummed faintly in my grip as I ran my thumb along its flat, grounding myself in the weight of it, in the promise of what came next.
Focus.
