IMOGEN'S POV
I walked out of Carnell's with my head held high, but it was only pride keeping me upright. Once the restaurant doors closed behind me, the mask slipped a little. The mid-afternoon air hit my skin, sharp and cold, prickling through the sweat on my brow.
I drove back to Isaac's house with my hands still shaking. The encounter with Elijah had left me feeling raw, like someone had scraped away a layer of my skin. I kept seeing his face across that restaurant table, the way his eyes had looked when he grabbed my wrist. The same wild desperation I remembered from our worst fights.
