Damon’s POV:
The blood had drained from her face and I could tell from her expression that I’d been right. But that realization didn’t set me at ease; it only made something deep inside my chest tighten into a painful knot.
How the hell had she suffered in her past for her to react like this? Just the utterance of a name—Persephone Orphanage—had been enough to shatter her composure. It was as if I had spoken a curse that summoned every ghost she had ever tried to outrun. I watched the way her hands trembled, her eyes darting toward the floor.
The doorbell rang. Ophelia jumped.
“I’ll go che—”
She started to rise, her movements frantic, but I cut her off before she could take a step.
“I’ll go,” I said, my voice firm, brooking no argument. I stood up. “You can’t just let anyone and ever
