Elena’s pov
I walked to the garden with a goal in mind. After the last meeting with Oliver and Lucas, I decided to test Beauty one last time. Something in me still wished that it was all a coincidence.
I saw her sitting on a stone bench by the lake. I pretended not to see her, choosing a wrought-iron bench at the far end of the garden. The cool metal bit into my skin through the thin fabric of my dress. I inhaled deeply, the fragrant lavender momentarily calming the storm inside me. It didn't last.
"Elena?" Her voice was a fragile tremor. I didn't turn.
"Elena, please." The desperation was more pronounced this time. I finally relented, slowly turning to face her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale. Guilt, or a clever imitation of it, shone in her gaze.
"What is it, Beauty?" My vo
