Elena’s POV

The sharp scent of alcohol and bergamot lingered in the air, remnants of the last perfume blend I had been working on. I had tried to push Damien and Stella out of my mind since the afternoon. Mostly because I had more important things to focus on.

Their drama was none of my concern now.

My hands were still faintly stained with oils. Glass vials stood in neat rows across the workstation when the classroom door burst open.

“Elena!”

I jumped, nearly knocking over the vial of ...