**Elena's POV**
I sat upright on the couch, my back feeling stiff. My hands were pressed so tightly against the cushion that my fingernails dug into the fabric. I hadn’t moved in hours. I didn’t even blink unless I had to. I just stared at the wood-paneled wall, breathing in and out through the sharp ache in my chest.
Heavy, terrifying footsteps sounded from the kitchen as Dante walked out, holding a glass of water. He stopped mid-step when he saw me, still frozen in the same position he had left me in. He let out a long sigh of frustration. “Elena, come on. You can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice sounding like a tired parent scolding a child.
I didn’t move. I didn't even glance at him.
He checked his wristwatch. “It’s 11:15 p.m. You’ve been sitting like this for almost two hour
