Eliana woke to the feeling of someone moving her. A hand pressed against her shoulder, gentle but firm. Her eyes fluttered open to the dim light of the room—and froze when she saw the face above her.
Elliot.
She gasped, but his hand came over her mouth before she could make a sound.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't make a sound, El."
His voice was low and trembling. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. Slowly, she nodded.
He looked around once more, scanning the shadows. Alfonso was gone. The room was empty except for them. Elliot finally pulled his hand away and leaned closer.
For a heartbeat, she thought she was dreaming again. Elliot couldn't be here. Not after what he'd done. But the fear in his eyes was real—and so was the keycard in his hand.
"Follow me," he murmured.
He moved to the door, his steps light and cautious. Eliana followed, still groggy, her pulse hammering in her throat. He pushed the door open just a little, the hinges creaking faintly.
