**Elena's POV**

I sat upright on the couch, my back stiff. My hands were pressed so tightly against the cushion that my fingernails dug into the fabric. I hadn’t moved in hours. I didn’t even blink unless I had to. I just stared at the wood-paneled wall, breathing in and out through the sharp ache in my chest.

Footsteps sounded from the kitchen, heavy and terrifying. Dante walked out, holding a glass of water. He stopped mid-step when he saw me, still frozen in the exact same position he ...