Page 159 of The Bittersweet Bond

Her pulse quickened, her fingers instinctively tightening around her glass.

Her gaze scanned the crowd, searching—

And then she saw him.

Standing near one of the catering stations.

His profile was sharp against the golden glow of the lights.

A glass dangled effortlessly between his fingers, his grip too relaxed, too casual—like he belonged here.

His posture was loose, almost lazy.

But to Evin, it was as if an invisible chain had suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her back into the past.

Her throat clenched.

That familiar, aching sting spread through her chest.

For a second, she was that girl again—small, powerless, trapped in an endless cycle of fear and self-doubt.

No.

Not this time.

Evin closed her eyes for a heartbeat, forcing herself to breathe deeply.

Her pulse pounded so loudly, it nearly hurt.

But when she opened her eyes again, it wasn’t just fear she felt.

It was rage.

A raw, unyielding anger that burned hot in her veins, melting away the ice of panic.

“There he is,” she whispered to Milka.

Her voice was too calm—too steady.

But Milka heard the tremor underneath.

Milka stiffened, then straightened, squeezing Evin’s arm.

“Don’t forget who you are,” she murmured, voice steady and resolute.

Evin squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and whispered back:

“I won’t.”

The words echoed in Evin’s mind.

But who was she?

She wasn’t that naive girl anymore, the one who believed she could trust the world.

She was someone who had survived—someone who fought against the memories every single day and refused to let them define her.

She was stronger than she had ever given herself credit for.

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