ELOWEN
Trevor looked around my cabin like he was appraising a property he was considering buying. His two bodyguards — massive men in dark suits, the kind of muscle money could rent — flanked him on either side.
"Cozy," he said, running a finger along the back of my couch. "Very... rustic. I can see why you like it out here. No neighbors to hear you scream."
"Get out of my house."
"Now, now." He turned to face me, that smile still plastered on his face. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? We have so much to catch up on."
"We have nothing to talk about. Get out, or I'm calling the police."
"With what phone?" He nodded to one of the bodyguards, who was already holding my cell. I hadn't even noticed him take it. "Relax, Elowen. I just want to talk."
"You broke into my home."
"The
