HANNAH’S POV.
I was quiet for a long time after Elijah told me. I sat on the couch with my sketchbook closed on the table beside me and I looked at a point on the opposite wall and I did not say anything for a while.
I thought about all the times I had seen Rowan including the event where he had appeared again and I had thought oh, him again, the way you think it about someone who keeps showing up in the same places as you. The dinner invitations, each one delivered with just the right amount of easy confidence and just the right amount of not making it awkward when I said no. The fact that he had never once pushed past what was acceptable. He had been, in every visible way, a perfectly pleasant man who was interested in me and respected my boundaries.
He had been so good at it.
And then something shifted in me and I laughed. It came out sharp and surprised and a little bit disbelieving and Elijah looked at me with a very careful expression when it happened.
“My instincts were right,” I said. Not triumphantly. Just as a fact. Just acknowledging the thing that I had known without knowing why I knew it. There had been something about Rowan that had never fully settled right with me and I had listened to that feeling even when I could not name it, even when he was perfectly polite and there was no logical reason to give him a second thought. I had listened to it and I had protected myself and it had been the right call.
“Your instincts were completely right,” Elijah said.
I looked at him. “I am angry.’
“I know.” He looked at me for a moment. Then he said, very carefully, “What should we do?

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