Graham’s Point Of  View

The thud of Elena’s heels against the marble stairs echoed through the house like a death knell, each step a hammer against my chest, each sound twisting the knife deeper. My fingers clenched around the glass of whiskey, the crystal biting into my palm, the amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. 

My gaze was locked on her…. her spine straight, her shoulders tight, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of defiance. She didn’t look ...