ELENA POV
I couldn't sleep.
It had been two days since the police visit, and every hour felt like a noose tightening around my neck.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
What if the police found something we'd missed? A strand of hair. A fingerprint. A witness we didn't know about.
What if they offered Damien immunity?
That thought kept circling back, no matter how hard I tried to push it away.
Damien could save himself. All he had to do was tell the truth that I killed Sarah, that he only helped dispose of the body because I'd forced him, because he was afraid of me.
It would be mostly true.
He could walk away free while I went to prison for murder.
Why wouldn't he take that deal?
I got up, paced around. 3AM. The facility was silent except for the hum of machinery and the occasional footstep of a guard on patrol.
My phone sat on the nightstand. I picked it up, scrolled through my messages.
