Elena's POV
"What is it?" Damian's voice sharpened instantly, reading the shift in my expression before I'd even managed to say a word.
I turned the phone toward him, my hands unsteady, and watched his face harden the moment he read the message. "Who sent that?"
"I don't know. I never know." The admission slipped out before I could stop it, exhaustion finally cracking through weeks of careful evasion. "Someone's been texting me for a while now. Warnings, mostly. I've never been able to figure out who."
"And you're only telling me this now?" His voice carried more disbelief than anger, though the frustration from moments earlier hadn't fully faded either.
"I didn't think it mattered before. I thought it was just… " I stopped myself, uncertain how to finish a sentence that had no honest
