Melissa’s POV

I couldn't stop my train of thought, not after what had happened.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Joem’s hand around my throat, felt the bruising grip, the flash of anguish in his eyes right before he let go. And worse, I saw the guilt that followed.

I should have hated him, I told myself I did. But hate was easy, and what I felt was anything but simple.

So, instead of lying awake replaying everything, I slipped into my coat and headed where no one would follow me, the library’s west wing.

It was supposed to be locked, but the door never really closed right...