[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/05m61xNT/Elena-Castellano-removebg-preview-1.png[/img][/center][right][sub]Interactions: Loni ([@FernStone])[/sub][/right][hr]

[indent]Elena let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she watched Luciana curl deeper into her mother’s embrace as if the very world outside that warmth ceased to exist. “[color=#f9c2bf]I’ll take it as a yes, then.[/color]” Her gaze lingered for a moment, absorbing the tenderness of the scene—one she had no part in but somehow felt tethered to. Then, a soft breath slipped past her lips as she took a step back toward the door. “[color=#f9c2bf]I’ll text you. And if I ever need anything, I’ll know where to find you.[/color]”

With a final nod, she pulled open the door and stepped out, leaving behind the new connection that, somehow, felt like it had been waiting to happen.

The transition back into the hallway was a sudden severance, however. The air was cooler and thinner as if the walls themselves exhaled in relief at her departure. Alone now, she felt the slow ebb of adrenaline, the tide withdrawing and leaving behind something restless and raw. A quiet itch crawled along the edges of her mind, a thing with claws that refused to be dismissed.

It wasn’t just the fight. Wasn’t just the aftermath.

It was the why.

The bakery hadn’t been chosen at random. It couldn't have been. Beasts didn’t just prowl into the city on a whim, and even if they did, a modest bakery wasn’t exactly a beacon for carnage. There were better targets—crowded districts, places brimming with movement and magic, places that mattered in the grander scheme of things. So why there? Why then? The question lodged itself in her mind like a splinter, small but impossible to ignore.

Elijah had been thinking it too, she realized. And if she was being honest, she wasn’t ready to let it go either.

Her feet slowed at the building’s exit, her breath curling faintly in the crisp air as she weighed her options. She could go home, let the whole thing settle, but that wasn’t her style. Not when there were still questions.

With a quiet sigh, she adjusted the strap of her bag and turned on her heel, retracing the path that had led her here in the first place.

Back to the bakery.

Maybe she wouldn’t find anything useful. Maybe the place would be locked up, closed off, swept clean of any trace of what had happened. But then again… maybe it wouldn’t.

And maybe she wasn’t the only one who wanted answers.[/indent]