Elena's POV
When the bowl was empty, he set it aside.
I sat there, knees tucked to my chest, and stared at the window.
"She's not afraid," I whispered.
Julian looked at me.
"She walked into the building, Julian. No mask. No disguise. Like she owns it."
He didn't speak.
"She was in prison. Then she wasn't. She kidnapped me. And now she's walking free."
I turned toward him.
"What are we even fighting?"
His jaw tightened. "We're not giving up."
"I don't even know what I'm fighting anymore." My voice cracked. "She's not hiding. She doesn't need to. Whatever system was supposed to protect me—it's gone. Twisted."
He reached for me again, arms wrapping around my body as he pulled me into his chest.
I didn't cry this time.
There was nothing left.
Only silence.
Only him.
Only the sound of my breath, jagged against his shirt.
His hand moved slowly over my back. Not to comfort—just to remind me he was still there.
