Before there was a plot,
there was a clearing.
A girl.
A silence I couldn’t explain.
The story arrived on the 20th anniversary of my father’s murder— a day that has always carried weight,
and strangely, always sparked my darkest creativity.
I wrote what I thought was the first chapter.
It’s now closer to the end.
Ada was just a name in the margins—
the girl in the clearing, the wolf’s first victim.
No history. No grief.
Elara had a different story then.
Her life shattered by the loss of her mother.
That scene stayed.
But it deepened.
It cracked open.
Now, Ada is the ache.
The echo.
The reason Elara carries so much pain.
This was the first crack.
And it’s spreading.