IMOGEN'S POV
The car turned into the familiar circular driveway, and I felt my stomach clench. Not from nerves, but from the sheer audacity of what I was doing. Walking back into this house after everything that had happened here. After all the ways this place had tried to swallow me whole.
Elijah parked and came around to open my door. I let him help me out, keeping my movements just slightly unsteady. Not fully drunk anymore, but tired. Worn down by whatever imaginary crisis had driven me to that bar.
"Can you walk okay?"
I nodded and took a few steps toward the front door. The house looked exactly the same. Pristine white columns, perfectly manicured hedges, windows that reflected the late afternoon sun like watchful eyes. Nothing had changed, but being here felt different now. I wasn't the same person who had fled this place months ago.
