Evander's POV
"Odette."
I called her name after her outburst. No warmth. No anger.
Then, quieter—
"Save your rage for someone who'll listen."
Her silence hit harder than her screams.
The moment those words left my mouth, the air in the car changed—like every ounce of fire in her had been yanked out and crushed. She went still, trembling, the way small things do right before they break. I could feel it without looking. I didn't need eyes to know the effect I had. The quiet was thick, trembling, and it pressed against my throat until even I had to remind myself to breathe.
She hated me—she'd made that clear enough. But that hatred… it came from the same fire that kept her alive. If she ever stopped fighting, I wasn't sure what would be left of her.
And yet, when she fell silent like that, I almost wished she'd keep yelling.
Her words replayed in my mind, one after another, digging deeper than silver ever could.
You could've died.
You should've died.
I hate you.
