Nadia's Point Of View
"And who do you think you are?"
The room felt like it was shrinking, the walls closing in until the air itself tasted of ozone and expensive cologne. I gasped, my hand flying to the back of the sofa for support as I stumbled two steps backward. My heart wasn't just beating; it was hammering a jagged, uneven rhythm against my ribs that made me feel like I was vibrating apart.
The familiar scent of leather and old books… scents that had once meant home, that had comforted me through countless sleepless nights now seemed to mock me with their false promise of belonging.
I blinked back the hot sting of shock, my voice trembling as I fought to regain my footing. The words tumbled out broken, desperate, each syllable catching in my throat. "I... I am your sister, Draven. Your sister! I just stood here and told you that someone insulted me… dishonored our name today, and all you can ask is who I think I—"
"Adopted."
