Elena's POV
Sebastian stirred behind me. "You okay?"
I turned. "Define okay."
He gave a tired smile, stood, and walked over. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Barely."
"You want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. "Not yet."
He nodded like he understood. Then, after a pause, he said, "We'll figure it out, Elena. Whatever this is... we'll handle it."
I wanted to believe him.
But a quiet voice in my head whispered otherwise.
I nodded, but my fingers clenched tighter around the glass.
"We'll handle it." That's what everyone kept saying.
But no one really knew what it was.
Not the imposter.
Not Damian, who was somehow alive.
Not the secrets clawing their way to the surface one by one.
I placed the glass down and leaned against the counter. "Sebastian," I said quietly, "when Callum was stabbed… I didn't just panic. I blamed myself. And I still do."
His eyes softened. "You didn't do this."
"I dragged him into it."
