Elena’s POV
I didn’t look back.
The corridor stretched ahead of me in a blur of white walls and scuffed linoleum. My arm pulsed with every step, the bandage pulling tight against the stitches. Somewhere behind me, raised voices still echoed,Lucas’s fury, Damian’s defenses, Isabella’s soft cries.
But I kept walking.
Samantha caught up first. Her hand brushed my uninjured elbow, light enough that I could have shaken her off if I wanted to.
“Elena.” Her voice was low. “Slow down.”
I didn’t. The exit signs glowed red above the double doors.
He had managed to free himself from the orderlies, but he didn't say a word.
His jaw was set, eyes still burning. He fell into step on my other side without speaking. The three of us moved together through the automatic doors and into the cooler dark.
Outside, the city noise rose around us,distant traffic, a siren somewhere far off. I stopped under the covered walkway and drew a breath that scraped. My hands were steady. That felt wrong. They should have been shaking.
Samantha studied my face. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re…” She cut herself off, glancing at the way I held my arm close to my body. “You’re scaring me more like this.”
Lucas suddenly pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Dad.”
I shook my head. “No. I’ll call him.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment, he put his phone away.
I reached for mine.
The screen immediately lit up.
Damian.
Missed calls.
Messages.
More missed calls.
My chest tightened, but I ignored every single one of them and scrolled to Dad’s name.
He answered almost immediately.
“Ellie?” His voice was tense. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out at first.
Then I swallowed.
“Dad…”
My voice cracked.
“I’m done.”
There was silence on the other end.
Not surprising.
I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my emotions under control.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I whispered. “I’m coming home.”
Dad let out a slow breath.
“Okay.”
That single word nearly broke me.
“I’ll arrange a flight,” he continued. “Come home, Ellie. We’ll talk when you get here.”
I closed my eyes.
He didn’t tell me he had warned me.
He didn’t remind me of everything Damian had done.
He simply said, “Come home.”
And somehow, that hurt more.
“Okay,” I whispered.
When the call ended, I lowered my phone.
Lucas was watching me.
“Come on,” he said gently. “My car’s in the visitor lot.”
Samantha slipped an arm carefully around my waist, mindful of my injured arm.
“We’ll get a hotel for the night,” she said. “You need to rest. We’ll figure out the flight in the morning.”
For once, I didn't argue.
I was too tired and too hurt.
And for the first time in twelve years, I didn't have the strength to fight for Damian anymore.
The drive to the hotel was quiet.
Lucas kept both hands tight on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road. He didn't turn on the radio. And Samantha sat beside me in the back seat, close enough that our shoulders touched whenever the car moved.
I leaned my head against the window.
Every bump in the road sent a dull ache through my injured arm, but I kept it to myself.
I was tired.
Too tired to complain.
Samantha noticed anyway.
“You can lean on me, you know,” she murmured.
I glanced at her.
“I’m fine.”
She gave me a look. “Elena.”
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth lifted slightly.
“Fine,” I muttered.
I carefully rested my head against her shoulder.
Samantha immediately leaned her cheek against my hair.
“There,” she whispered. “That’s better.”
From the front seat, Lucas glanced at us through the rearview mirror.
“If she starts crying, Sam, tell me.”
“Lucas,” I groaned.
“What? I’m serious.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
“Exactly. And you're terrible at admitting when something is wrong.”
Samantha smiled. “He’s right.”
I lifted my head and glared at both of them.
“Traitors.”
For the first time that night, Samantha laughed.
Even Lucas's mouth twitched slightly.
The moment didn't last long, but it was enough.
Enough to remind me that I wasn't completely alone.
The hotel wasn't far from the hospital. Lucas parked, then immediately came around to open my door before I could reach for the handle.
“I can do it myself,” I murmured.
“I know.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
“Because you got shot, Elena.”
“It was a graze.”
Lucas gave me a flat look. “You were still shot.”
Samantha climbed out behind me.
“Honestly, Ellie, just let your brother take care of you for once.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Both of you are annoying.”
“Good,” Lucas said. “You're talking.”
The hotel room was simple and quiet. As soon as we entered, Samantha locked the door behind us.
“Sit down,” she ordered.
“I need to shower first.”
She looked at the bloodstains on my clothes and immediately softened.
“Okay. But I'm helping you change afterward.”
“I can change by myself.”
“I know you can. I’m still helping.”
Lucas pointed toward the bathroom.
“You've got ten minutes.”
I stared at him. “Are you timing my shower now?”
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Ten minutes, Ellie.”
I shook my head and went into the bathroom.
By the time I came out wearing an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants Samantha had bought for me, my hair was damp and my body felt slightly less tense.
Samantha was sitting on the bed waiting for me.
“Oh, good,” she said, standing. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“So I can check your bandage.”
“Samantha…”
“Elena.”
I sighed.
She carefully inspected the edge of the bandage, her movements gentle.
“You're lucky I'm a better best friend than you are a patient.”
I looked at her. “You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
“Absolutely.”
Lucas stood near the window, watching us.
He turned when he heard me sit on the bed.
“How bad is the pain?”
“It hurts.”
His jaw tightened.
Samantha handed me a glass of water and my medication.
“Take these.”
I swallowed the pills and handed the glass back.
“Good girl,” Samantha said.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I am not five you know.”
“You're acting like it.”
Lucas gave a quiet snort.
I looked at him. “Don't encourage her.”
“You two sound exactly the same as you did when you were teenagers.”
Samantha smiled. “And you're still just as bossy.”
“Someone has to keep Ellie alive.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
Lucas shrugged. “Evidence suggests otherwise.”
I was about to answer when my phone started ringing.
The room immediately went quiet.
Damian.