**Elena’s POV**

“Elena.”

The sound of my name felt like a physical weight crashing into my back. I froze. My fingers, still curled around a cheap pack of tissues, turned white. I didn't want to turn around. I wanted to bolt, to run through the sliding glass doors, back to my hotel room, and bolt the door until the world forgot I existed.

Shit. I shouldn’t have come out. I should have just used the hotel soap.

“Elena,” she said again, her voice getting closer.

I swallowed hard. My ...