Elisabeth's POV
The thought had crossed my mind that Jefferson might push me past my breaking point, yet here I stood before my reflection, desperately trying to smooth away the strain etched around my eyes while applying concealer. My fingers trembled slightly, not from anxiety but from the sheer exhaustion of carrying everything that had unfolded recently. The rage, the endless mental battles over Jefferson, the constant emotional whiplash—it all churned together in my chest like a storm.
Tonight, I would set those feelings aside for this gathering. I genuinely wanted to connect with these people, despite feeling so incredibly drained. Drained from the suffocating atmosphere, from waging wars that seemed pointless. The only thing anchoring my sanity right now was the prospect of escaping for a few precious hours, of blending in somewhere that didn't revolve entirely around his darkness. Maybe I could actually forget about him temporarily.
