ILIANA’S POV — My mind is at war with my heart, the raging woman inside of me is yelling at my younger self, the sweet one, the forgiving one, the one I thought was long dead. It’s been five days. Five days since I found out that Drystan had drugged me, but every thought about it has my heart yelling to just forgive him. I’ve come to a conclusion, but the thought is idiotic and diabolical. It could kill me, yet it hasn’t. I sit with my fingers drumming against one another, slumped in the couch. Twisting my neck, I glance at my phone laying beside me, but the sensible part of my brain refuses to make a move. I’ve been trying to pray, to ask for any advice, or a sign, but it’s been a dead end. The ding of the elevator pulls me from my thoughts, and my body stills. I stop breathing