Damon's POV

The morning after the results felt like waking up in a morgue. The air in the house was stagnant, heavy with the scent of dried tears and the crushing finality of that 99.9%. Aria hadn’t spoken a word to me since she walked up those stairs, and I didn't blame her. I spent the night on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows of passing cars dance across the walls like ghosts of the life I had just forfeited.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. The sound made my ...