I didn't sleep.
I lay awake in the temporary room Damon forced me into, staring at the ceiling while the moon crawled across the sky. The estate was silent—too silent. No footsteps. No guards rotating shifts. No distant voices.
Damon must've cleared the entire hallway to keep it "secure."
But all it did was make me feel trapped.
Jonas's face kept flickering through my mind, replaying in fragments—the dirt on his sleeves, the way he kept his hands in his pockets, the distant look in his eyes. Something wasn't right. And the more I replayed it, the heavier the dread settled in my chest.
Was Jonas here to harm me?
I didn't want to believe it—but the suspicion burrowed deeper every time I thought of my destroyed room.
After a while, exhaustion pulled me under. It wasn't restful. Not even close.
---
I woke to someone knocking lightly on the door.
"Cassidy?"
Celeste.
