Elena's POV
"Check your arm."
I stood frozen in the middle of my dark kitchen, the phone's glow the only light in the apartment, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. Slowly, I lifted my arm toward the screen, dread pooling cold and heavy in my stomach even before I fully understood what I was looking for.
Four thin lines ran across my forearm, red and slightly raised, evenly spaced in a pattern I recognized instantly, sickeningly, the moment my eyes landed on them. I'd seen this exact pattern once before, that first week, in the exact same place on my arm, and I'd spent weeks afterward convincing myself it had been some strange, unrepeatable fluke I never needed to think about again.
I touched one gently, and it stung, faint but undeniable, the skin tender in a way
