Elle’s POV
I didn’t sleep that night. I sat by the window with my phone in my hand, waiting for something, anything. But nothing came. No message. No sound. Just silence and the sound of my own heartbeat.
When the sun came up, I still hadn’t eaten or showered. I couldn’t. I kept thinking about Amelia’s voice, her laughter. Every minute without her felt like a punishment.
Around eight, there was a knock at the door. It was Damien. He looked worried, holding a cup of coffee.
“You look terrible,” he said.
“I feel worse,” I answered.
He handed me the cup. “You need to keep your head straight, Elle.”
“I’m trying,” I said, though it wasn’t true.
He sat across from me. “Listen to me. I’ve seen what anger does to people. Don’t let it control you.”
“I’m not angry,” I said quietly. “I’m ter
