Kianna's Pov:
The rain started the moment I stepped out of the gallery, a cold, sudden downpour that soaked through my hoodie in seconds.
I didn't run, I couldn't. The portrait Lysander had drawn for me was still clutched in my arms against my chest, the paper had already started warping under the water.
I stared at it, at the soft charcoal eyes he'd given me, and felt something inside crack wide open.
I had gone back for it despite Mordred's words. No matter what, it was a gift made for me and so I needed to keep it. But when I went for it, he wasn't there, he left it at the center where I had left him hanging after his desperate confession.
As I walked through the rain in search of him, only one thing was on my mind. A plea, something that will cool down my temper and release me of this doubt.
Lysander had done so much for me, but I can't deny the fact that everything Mordred had said earlier with evidence made sense.
