The storm had passed, but the silence it left behind was worse.
By evening, the campus felt unnaturally still. Elise hadn't left her dorm all day. Her curtains were drawn, the lights dim, her phone silent. The others had tried calling, knocking, even slipping notes under her door — but she never answered.
Davon hadn't come back either.
When Devin and Lucian finally found him, he was sitting alone behind the old library, head in his hands, eyes dim and distant.
"You told her," Lucian said quietly.
Davon didn't look up. "I didn't have to. She already knew."
Devin exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "Damn it. Patricia and Anastasia—"
"They told her," Davon muttered.
"Not exactly," Patricia's voice came from behind them. She stood there with Anastasia beside her, both looking guilty, tired. "We didn't mean for her to find out. She overheard us talking after you told us the truth."
Davon's head finally lifted. His eyes — normally calm, teasing — burned with something raw. "You should've been more careful."
Patricia winced. "You think I don't know that?"
Devin sighed and stood between them. "Enough. What's done is done."
Anastasia bit her lip, glancing toward the horizon where the sun was melting into red. "How bad was it?"
Davon's laugh was low, humorless. "She called me a monster."
The air stilled. Even Lucian's expression softened.
"She didn't mean it," Anastasia said gently.
"She did," Davon said. "And she was right to." He stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans. "She's terrified of me now. I saw it in her eyes."
Devin frowned. "Then don't let that be the last thing she sees."
Davon's head snapped up. "What?"
"Don't give up on her," Devin said firmly. "Elise isn't someone who hates easily. She's just scared. You owe it to her — to both of you — to talk when she's ready."
Patricia nodded, her expression softening. "He's right. She's been through a lot today, but once she calms down, we'll help her talk to you."
Davon hesitated, then looked away. "If she ever wants to see me again."
Lucian, who'd been quiet until now, leaned back against a tree. "She will. The question is, are you ready to face her when she does?"
Davon met his brother's eyes. The look that passed between them was heavy — the kind of silent understanding that only centuries of shared pain could shape.
"I'll wait," Davon said finally, voice low. "Even if it takes forever."
The group stood in quiet understanding. Anastasia's hand brushed Devin's; Patricia looked up at Lucian, who gave her a reassuring nod.
Finally, Patricia spoke. "We'll talk to her tomorrow. Gently. No more secrets."
Devin placed a hand on Davon's shoulder. "She's strong, you know. Strong enough to see you — the real you — and not run away next time."
Davon gave a tired smile. "Let's hope you're right."
As they walked back toward the dorms, the night air grew colder. The moon hung low, pale and watchful — like it, too, was waiting to see if love could survive the truth.