Elena
Ivy's fingers dig into my arm. She pulls me to my feet. The white leather couch sighs as I leave it.
I look back at Ray. His amber eyes are sad. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it. He says nothing.
He is not going to stop her.
The realization hits me like a slap. I am alone. Again.
Ivy drags me out of the living room. The double doors close behind us with a soft thud. The hallway is cold. My bare feet leave wet prints on the wooden floor.
"Walk," Ivy says. She releases my arm and points toward the staircase. "Upstairs. Now."
I walk. My legs are weak, but I force them to move. Each step feels like wading through water. My wet hair drips down my back, soaking the T-shirt.
Ivy follows close behind. Her heels click on the stairs. Click. Click. Click. Like a countdo
