Elena's POV
When they left, the silence returned.
Louder than before.
I walked through the house like it wasn't mine.
Checked the locks. The windows. Twice.
Then I sat.
Hands gripping the edge of the couch.
It wasn't just fear anymore.
It was war.
And I needed to be ready.
I couldn't stay there.
Not one more second in that house.
Not after what I saw. What I felt.
I packed fast—barely thinking. Just moving.
The city blurred past the windows as I drove.
Head pounding. Hands tight on the wheel.
I didn't know where else to go.
So I drove.
Wind in my face, thoughts spinning louder than the engine.
When I pulled up at Callum's, the lights were still on.
I didn't hesitate.
I knocked once.
He opened the door like he'd been waiting.
"Elena," he said, surprised—but not unkind.
"I didn't mean to bother you," I said quickly, eyes stinging. "I just—I didn't know where else to go."
He stepped outside, closing the door halfway behind him. "You're not bothering me."
