Eve
"Felicia, leave now."
His voice was dangerously levelled.
Felicia twisted her face in disdain before stomping past us, Elliot still on her hip. I watched them go, my eyes shifting to Elliot as she made her way to the door.
His lips were quivering, his eyes glazed over.
My chest constricted, an almost foreign and visceral emotion churning in me.
The hallway was silent.
But my heart wasn't.
It pounded in my chest, a brutal, erratic drumbeat against my ribs.
I barely heard Hades as he stepped closer, his arm wrapping around me, his presence warm, grounding—trying to anchor me.
"Don't listen to her," he murmured, voice low, steady.
I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
Because my mind was still racing, my vision still locked on the empty space where Felicia had just disappeared with Elliot.
His lips had been quivering.
His eyes—glazed over, unfocused, too distant for a child his age.
"There is far more to that poor child."
