Davina's POV
Chase walked in just as I was cramming another heap of clothing into the open suitcase sprawled across the bed.
He stopped dead in the doorway for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the chaos of garments, the crooked zipper of the suitcase, the way my shoulders were trembling.
"What are you doing?" His voice remained controlled, though I caught that worried undertone he couldn't quite mask.
I raised my head just enough for him to catch sight of the tears streaming down my face. My breathing came in short, ragged bursts, and my hands continued to shake as I fumbled with the suitcase zipper.
"We're leaving," I managed, my voice fracturing on those final words.
Chase entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him. "No, you're not."
"We can't stay here," I fired back, my voice quivering so violently it was nearly incomprehensible.
"Chase, if—"
