The moment the radio call ends, the strength drains from my body. My knees buckle. I stumble backward until the back of my legs hit the edge of a metal folding chair near the security vehicle. I collapse into it without grace, my hands gripping the cold edges of the seat as violent tremors race through me.
I cannot stop shaking. My mind cannot anchor to anything solid. The world feels too bright, too sharp, too close.
The phone. The picture. The knowledge that someone was inside my room while I slept. My chest tightens until every breath feels broken.
Damian is in front of me within seconds. He kneels down, one knee hitting the concrete, his face level with mine. His hands lift, hovering near my cheeks, but he does not touch me. His fingers tremble once before he steadies them.
“Elena,
