Angela's POV
“What a mess you've made, Kurtis,” I spat, marching into the dimly lit room where he was confined. He looked up at me, defiant as ever, but I wasn’t here to play nice. Lyra’s little display at my place was the final straw.
“Angela, you’d better tell me everything,” she had yelled, knocking over my favorite vase, her voice trembling with an anger I didn’t know she had in her. I could still see the broken glass and shattered flowers, littering the floor like pieces of our fractured bond. But she’d crossed a line, and I wasn’t about to let her threats go unpunished. Not when it came to Kurtis.
I reached the end of the hall and stopped before the heavy, rusted door. With a quick glance behind me, I twisted the handle and slipped inside.
There he was, Kurtis, his arms tied behi
