Elena’s POV

The chair feels almost too firm beneath me as I settle into it, the polished wood pressing against my back while the whispers of conversation fill the air around us, a quiet symphony of clinking glasses and murmured words that makes this place feel safe on the surface, but I cannot shake the storm building beneath my skin. I keep my hands resting lightly on the edge of the table, palms flat against the linen as if that simple gesture can anchor me, keep me steady while Cole sits ...