#Chapter 166: The Moment I Let Go

ELENA The room was spinning when I surfaced. Not literally—not in that dizzy, vertigo way—but in a deeper, stranger sense. Like reality had been pulled too tight and then suddenly let go, snapping back with a sickening lurch. The floor wasn’t moving, but I felt as though I was tilting, like my soul couldn’t find purchase inside my body. Like gravity had forgotten me. The light in the room seemed too sharp, the air too thin. My ears rang with silence, if that made sense, a dense hum that filled every inch of my skull. My fingers dug into the arms of the chair. The soft fabric pressed against my skin, grounding me in a world that suddenly felt distant and unfamiliar. I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. Each inhale caught halfway, stuck behind the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest. The memory—that memory—was still clinging to me like ash from a fire. It coated everything. My thoughts. My muscles. My breath. It left behind a bitter film I couldn’t wipe away. And