Amira stood beneath the warm spray of the shower, her tears mingling with the water as they cascaded down her cheeks. The steam enveloped her, offering a brief respite from the harsh realities that surrounded her. With trembling hands, she reached for the bar of soap, the familiar scent of lavender filling the air as she lathered it against her skin.
"I just want to wash it all away," Amira whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rushing water. "All the pain, all the fear..."
Each stroke of the soap felt like a desperate attempt to cleanse herself of the memories that haunted her—the cruel abuse inflicted upon her by the rogue werewolves, the gut-wrenching sight of her parents' lifeless bodies lying on the cold floor. The weight of their deaths pressed heavil
