Elena's POV
"Julian, I think I should start going to work. I'm just not useful here," I said, voice low.
He looked up from his phone, brows drawn tight. "Elena, I know. But this shit is serious."
I didn't argue. Because I knew he was right. But doing nothing—just sitting here, hiding—was eating me alive.
He stood and walked over to me, his expression softening. "You're not useless. You're safe. That's what matters."
I looked away, jaw tight. "But for how long? Hiding doesn't feel like living, Julian."
"I get it," he said quietly. "Believe me, I do. But whoever this is—they're watching. They're bold enough to leave notes at the gate. I can't take chances with you."
I didn't respond. I couldn't.
He bent in front of me, resting a hand on my knee. "Give me a few days. Just a few. Let me find something—anything we can use. Then you can go wherever you want."
"And if they never slip up?" I asked.
