Elena’s POV

The morning sun peeked through the dusty blinds of the safehouse, its light sharp like a knife. It cut across the old floor, making shadows dance.

The room smelled like wet wood and old coffee, with a faint sting of blood from my bandaged hand.

The bandage was red where blood leaked through my arm, and every time I moved, it hurt like a bee sting that wouldn’t stop.

Sylvia had been taken in for the attack on Stella, though it was still confusing as to how that officer ...