Elena’s Point Of View

The room was quiet except for the low hum of the AC and the faint thump of music from somewhere downstairs. My hands were twisted in my lap, nails digging into my palms so hard that little crescents marked my skin. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until Lexy’s fingers closed gently over mine.

“Elena,” she said softly, like she was afraid I’d bolt. “Sit. Please.”

I sank into the sofa, the cushions swallowing me whole. The fabric smelled ...