Chapter 48

Wren hadn't closed his eyes all night. His body was completely drained, pushed past its limits, yet sleep was nowhere in sight. Every time he shut his eyes, memories of Clara flooded his mind—years of shared moments playing on a loop. Since they were kids, Clara had always clung to him, no matter how cold or distant he tried to appear. She would follow him around, her sweet voice calling him "Wren" without the slightest hesitation or fear. Bit by bit, she melted his defenses, slipping into his world. He vividly remembered the day his mother passed away. At the funeral, Clara hugged him tightly, her tiny frame trembling as she cried harder than he did. Even through her own grief, she tried to comfort him. She'd placed a small piece of candy in his hand, telling him it would make him feel better. He never had the heart to eat it—it was still tucked away somewhere safe. When she was seven, her parents died. It was the first time Wren felt the instinct to protect someone—the