Elena's POV
I didn't even feel the wind on my face as we left.
Everything blurred past the windows—cars, buildings, street signs I used to memorize as a girl. But all I could think about was that moment in the kitchen. The weight of Damian's eyes on me. The quiet in his voice when he said he didn't deserve me.
He was right.
But I hadn't realized just how far he'd fallen.
"How sure are you?" Anna asked beside me, her voice low but urgent.
"About Damian?" I nodded once. "I'd bet everything."
She looked over at me. "Then we need to be smart. If he switched it, he didn't destroy it. He gave it to someone. Roth?"
"No," I said quickly. "Amira."
Anna's mouth tightened. "Of course."
They were working together now. The woman who once called me sister. And the man who once swore he loved me. How poetic.
"We need proof," Anna said. "We can't just accuse him."
