Elena slammed the bedroom door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped the key before she managed to lock it. She stumbled backwards, breath ragged, the image of Rico’s smirk still burning behind her eyes.
She rushed to the windows.
One by one, she yanked the curtains closed. Thick, heavy fabric drowned the room in shadows. But even in the dark, she didn’t feel safe. She pressed her back to the wall and slid down to the floor, arms wrapped tight around her knees.
Her skin felt cold.
Her heart wouldn’t stop racing.
He had been here.
He had touched her.
Watched her.
She stayed there for hours. She didn’t move, barely even blinked. The hours passed slowly—each tick of the clock was a reminder she was still alive, but barely
