Samaira's POV

There was an endless pond of water. From above, it looked black. There was no way of knowing how deep it stretched. But it wasn't the depth that was frightening, it was the stillness. As though a single ripple would disturb the surface, and whatever lay beneath would finally rise. Something that was never meant to see the light. This felt like that moment. The flame burned steadily in my hand, casting a dull glow across the room as I refused to break eye contact with the woman dressed in white. Her expression turned cold, her gaze fixed on the letters in my hand. They had to be important to her. It made me want to burn them simply for the sake of it. Anger had a way of doing that. It clouded reason.