Elena’s POV
The hallway of the River Street lofts was frigid, smelling faintly of damp concrete and old iron.
I stood outside Evan's apartment, my chest rising and falling in shallow, nervous breaths. I reached out and knocked on the heavy wooden door, three firm, resounding thuds that echoed down the vacant corridor.
No answer.
I raised my hand and knocked again, louder this time. "Evan?" I called out, my voice betraying a sliver of the anxiety knotting in my stomach. Still, nothing. My armor began to crack, replaced by a dark, unwelcome fear that he was lying inside, unconscious or worse. "Evan! Open the door!"
"What are you doing here?"
A low, gravelly voice spoke from directly behind me.
I whipped around, my back slamming against the doorframe. Evan was standing ten feet away at
