(Elara)
The door I slammed still rang loudly in my head. My heart was still pounding loudly from the heated exchange I had with Camila.
She had a way of brushing things off like they didn’t matter, like my questions were just me being “dramatic.” Maybe she was right. Maybe the black sedan was nothing.
But the sign of headlights in the distance, the way Camila and Mira stood near the fountain like long time friends, whispered otherwise.
I dropped my hoodie onto the bed and sat down, fingers drumming on my knee. The room was too quiet. Too… compliant. Damon’s kind of quiet. The kind that made you second-guess whether you were free or just well-decorated.
A soft knock came on the door.
“Come in,” I said as I began folding my hoodie to seem busy for whoever was coming through.
The door
