No perfect Victim 1

IMOGEN'S POV

The smell of eggs and toast filled the small motel kitchen, the only sense of normalcy I had managed to maintain since this nightmare began. I was focused on flipping the eggs when a loud knock at the door shattered the fragile calm. It wasn't just a knock; it was frantic, heavy, like someone desperate to be let in.

I froze, the spatula hovering over the pan. My lawyer's voice echoed in my head, stern and insistent: Stay away from everyone. Even family. Leave your house, Stay away from your parents house and even friends. This is the point where men become dangerous, when they don't want to be left.

My pulse quickened. Elijah? Had he found me? No. He wouldn't knock. He wouldn't give me that warning.

I had checked myself into a motel ever since and only my parents and Isaac knew where I was.