Elena’s POV

I sat up slowly as Stella walked in with her arm lifted like a fragile trophy.

Her bandages were clean and neat, wrapped in a way that practically begged for sympathy. She had done this routine too many times for me not to know what came next.

She stopped at the foot of my bed. Her expression held that familiar, polished arrogance.

I didn’t even let her begin.

“You look exhausted,” I said. “It must be hard keeping track of all your personalities. The delicate one, ...