–Livana–
I can't see them. The photos.
The investigator said they were of my sister—the one who laced my drink with drugs and paid someone to spray whatever corrosive poison it was into my eyes.
I don't want to tell anyone, but I can't see the photos. And I can't call Laura.
What if she's in them?
Damon? I don't trust that bastard. But would he really tolerate Laura if she'd hurt me?
I wouldn't have minded dying if it was just about the inheritance. If my sister had killed me outright, I'd almost respect the efficiency. But this... this was different. This was slow.
"Livy."
I stopped, turning toward the voice, though all I faced was endless black.
"Don't you knock?" I asked, my tone flat.
"Oh, honey," he said, voice dripping with arrogance, "I don't need to knock."
I heard the shift in his steps—heavy at first, then muffled. Carpet. He was closer now.
"What are you worried about?"
