Elena's POV
"You look like you didn't sleep at all."
Ruth set a coffee on my desk the next morning, studying me with the same careful attention she always seemed to bring whenever something had visibly shifted overnight. I hadn't slept, not really, the texter's warning looping through my mind long after Damian had walked me to my door and made me promise to keep every lock secured.
"Rough night," I admitted, wrapping both hands around the cup.
"I heard about Victor. At the dinner-dance." Ruth's voice dropped lower, glancing toward Damian's closed office door. "He's rattled something loose. Damian's been on the phone since before I arrived this morning."
I nodded, though the exhaustion made it difficult to focus on much beyond the immediate discomfort of my own body, a strange, persist
