Chapter 89

• Aria
• I wake up, and the sun is literally stabbing me in the face like it has a personal vendetta. No curtain, no mercy…just straight-up blinding me. Groaning, I sit up, stretch out my arms, and let out this big, dramatic yawn.
• I look around the room, and yeah, it’s a shoebox. But it’s my shoebox, you know? I’ve been living here since I turned sixteen, scraping by with a bunch of part-time jobs because, well, being an orphan doesn’t exactly come with a trust fund. The room’s got the basics: a bed, a desk shoved in the corner, and this sad little pile of my belongings that I like to call "organized chaos."