Damien's POV

I stood there in the living room, listening to the noises coming from her room, drawers opening and shutting, hangers scraping, bags rustling.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

I walked to her door, hesitating for a second with my hand hovering over the handle, then knocked softly.

“Elena?”

She didn’t answer.

But the movement inside got faster, sharper, like she was trying to move quickly.

I pushed the door open carefully and my chest tightened immediately.

She was packing, ...