Damon's POV
We came back to the estate in the dead of night.
The front door slammed shut before the engine had even cooled. She didn't look back. Just walked—straight through the hall, up the stairs, and into the master bathroom. The door didn't just close. It exploded.
In all her months as a Hawthorne, Aria had never raised her voice. Never pushed back.
So when it finally happened...
I stood there. A panic I'd never known seized me by the throat.
This feeling—it was like drowning. I had to fix it. Now.
With a bowl of hangover soup on a tray, I turned the handle and stepped inside.
She was at the mirror. Back to me. Watching.
Not me—I wasn't there anymore. She was watching whatever was left of us, reflected in her own cold stare.
And then it came back. Not a thought. A memory.
A
