(Damian's point of view)

The whiskey burned as it went down.

It felt good. Familiar.

My body received it as always—as if it knew that ritual by heart. Anything that could silence the noise in my head was worth it.

The night air drifted in through the open window, cool and steady, brushing against the curtains and settling in the room. It should have been comforting.

It wasn't.

I didn't bother using a glass. The bottle rested against my lips again, and I took another slow sip before setting it b