Lola’s POV

Morgan pulled me through the heavy double doors of the Grand Hall. The noise of the party died down as the doors slammed shut behind us. We were in a small, quiet hallway used by the staff. The walls were plain, and the air felt cold compared to the crowded room we just left.

Morgan didn't let go of my arm. He turned to face me. His chest was moving fast. Like he'd run a long race, his hair was messy, uncombed, and his shirt was wrinkled from his days of drinking. But his eyes were ...