I don’t remember my real name. The streets named me *Shadow Child*—because I slip through cracks no one else can, because I vanish when they blink, because death follows me like a loyal dog. The city’s elite whisper that I’m a curse born from the underground labs. The rebels say I’m the key to tearing down the Spire. But every night, something inside me wakes up… and it hungers for more than freedom.

I never thought the house would feel this empty. Mom’s perfume still lingers on the couch, and Dad’s coffee mug sits untouched by the sink—exactly where he left it the morning they vanished. The police say there’s no evidence of a struggle. No signs of forced entry. Just silence. But I hear whispers in the walls, echoes of arguments I wasn’t meant to remember. Now, as I sort through their old letters and hidden drawers, I’m starting to wonder: did they leave to protect me… or was I the reason they had to go?