ELENA
I paced outside the hospital, one hand pressed to my forehead as the other gripped my phone so tightly I thought it might crack.
The air outside was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to your skin and refused to let go. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.
The night should have been still—calm, peaceful. But the chaos inside me mirrored the hospital behind me: wild, panicked, loud. I could still see the flashes of red and blue on the asphalt from where we’d pulled up. Still feel Aiden’s blood drying on my arms like some kind of brand.
The phone rang once.
“Come on,” I whispered.
Logan answered on the first ring.
“Elena? Goddess, are you okay? What happened?” His voice came fast, tight with panic.
I closed my eyes, trying to draw a breath, but my lungs stuttered.
