Nova's POV
It had been a whole month since the accident.
And just like that, the world had moved on.
The vultures with microphones and flashing cameras had grown tired. I guess they expected me to break down publicly, cry in some exclusive interview, or at the very least post a cryptic tweet that said, "Forgiveness is healing," or something equally poetic.
But I gave them nothing. Not a word. Not a soundbite. Not even a glare.
And they gave up.
Thank God.
Because I was finally breathing again.
I had started sleeping without waking up in cold sweat. I could walk across campus without worrying about some desperate blogger popping out of a bush to ask, "Nova, do you blame her?" I didn't even care that my face was no longer plastered everywhere. Fame, even the kind that isn't yours, is exhausting.
Life was… well, not normal. Not really. But Eldur-normal.
