RIta's Point Of View
I stared at the digital clock on Rose's living room wall, watching the red numbers pulse like a failing heartbeat. Five minutes. Only five minutes remained of the hour I had given my family… that collection of vultures I used to call kin. My hands trembled so violently I had to tuck them beneath my thighs to keep from watching them shake.
The leather of Rose's sofa felt cold against my palms, a small anchor in a world that had tilted sideways. I pressed down harder, trying to ground myself in something tangible, something real.
What if I've overplayed my hand? The thought clawed at the back of my throat, tasting like copper and bile. What if Edward and Mother decided their pride mattered more than Seraphina's safety?
