Leah

Low music hummed in the background as I stepped into the bar, the heavy scent of whiskey thick in the air.

I spotted Freya easily since she was one of the five people inside, tucked into a corner booth.

Her fingers curled around a drink she hadn't so much as sipped. When her eyes lifted to meet mine, a smug smirk tugged at her lips, already grating on my nerves.

"You're here," she said as I slid into the booth across from her.

My heart was still hammering from hearing her voice over ...