Siena POV

Three hours passed.

But they didn’t feel like three hours.

They felt like three years.

Each minute moved like it was dragging its feet, like time was stuck in thick mud and refused to go faster. I kept glancing at the clock on the wall, then at Lucian, then back again. I tried to breathe slowly. I tried to keep my hands still. But it was impossible.

We had been taken to a small waiting room. It had four chairs, a water dispenser, and a glass wall that made the space feel even colder. Everything was too bright, too quiet. Even the sound of a pen clicking or...