ELENA’S POV
The next morning, I woke to the faint golden light spilling through the curtains, painting the room in soft warmth. For the first time in three days, my chest didn’t feel like a tightly coiled spring. No dreams, no midnight jolts—just sleep. A small mercy I was grateful for.
I stared at the white ceiling for a moment, letting the silence of the room embrace me before reality crept back in. The past few days hit like a slow, steady wave—hurt, anger, and the jagged edges of uncertainty.
With a deep sigh, I pushed the covers off, my feet meeting the cool floor. “Alright,” I whispered to no one. “One step at a time.”
I walked into the adjoining bathroom. The warm shower eased the tension in my shoulders as I stepped under it, though it didn’t reach the hollow ache lodged in my
