It was late afternoon. The sun slipped through the grimy window of Eliana Bennett's tiny apartment. The room smelled of damp wood mixed with the faint sting of hospital antiseptic still clinging to her worn-out cardigan. Eliana stood in the center of her cramped living room, a half-packed suitcase open on the sagging couch. Her slender fingers trembled as she folded a faded blue dress, its hem frayed from months of wear. Her eyes, were dulled by exhaustion and the seriousness of Rafael Vexley's ultimatum. She'd spent the morning after the visit to Rafael's house, at the hospital, sitting by her father's bedside, watching his chest rise and fall with labored breaths.