*~Mirabelle's POV~*
It wasn't as if I'd been waiting all day for Cassian to reappear in my room and tell me, "Let's go." In fact, I had been busy doing nothing but thinking about it. No matter how I tried to distract myself, his face was everywhere—haunting my reflection in the mirror, lingering in every corner of the room.
Eventually, I forced myself to go downstairs. Surprisingly, only Stacy and my grandma were there. Stacy was helping Nana prepare dinner; they had always shared a special bond, a closeness that occasionally made me feel like an outsider in my own home.
"Hi, Mirabel. How are you feeling?" Stacy asked, her voice dripping with a softness that felt like a fragile peace offering.
"I'm good," I said shortly, dropping a plate into the sink with a clatter to ensure Nana noticed I was there.
Nana turned, wiping her hands on her apron. "How is your headache?"
"It's fine. Completely gone," I replied.
