Nineteen

Luna paced the place, unsteady and completely heartbroken. She didn't want to be with anyone, she wanted to be completely alone. Iris was with Theo and Claire, and Portia was distracted by her husband. She still didn't know anything. She didn't know what had happened to her father, she didn't know how cruelly he had been hurt.

Two days had passed, two slow, agonizing days. She had gone from being the happiest woman in the world, to the most miserable. There was nothing to soothe the pain she felt at that moment.

Angelica was dead, it was the only thing that comforted her. Her suicide had been the perfect proof of her irreversible state. She had no salvation. It was sad, if she thought about her whole story, who wouldn't go crazy if the love of your life was taken away from you, and you had no choice but to survive and hide for fear of being found by the same people who took him away from you?

- Luna," the person behind her called, "James has woken up.

Her heart began to pound. She ran