Cassandra Kane
Stepping into her living room, Cassandra let out a shaky breath. The place looked untouched, almost as if nothing had happened. The sliding door was fixed, the shattered glass swept away, and not a single trace of the blood that had once pooled on her floor remained. It was eerie, knowing what had transpired here, knowing that only she carried the scars of that night.
Her gaze swept over the space, noting the absence of her couch. She supposed there had been no saving it, not after all the blood. How had Desmond managed to fix everything so quickly? Between hovering over her like an overprotective guardian and ensuring she took time to heal, he had still somehow found time to repair her home. She didn’t know if she should be grateful or frustrated by how seamlessly he had
