Angela sat at the edge of her bed, the gold-embossed invitation still lying on her desk. The script gleamed mockingly in the low light of her dorm room. A part of her wanted to toss it in the trash, to ignore the entire affair, but the pull of answers was too strong. She needed to know what Elena was after and what Edmund wasn't telling her.
Her fingers hovered over her phone, Edmund's number glowing on the screen. She had typed and deleted a message at least five times.
I'm not going to this gala. It's a trap.
What is Elena planning?
Why didn't you tell me everything?
The thoughts raced through her head, each one more frantic than the last. Finally, she sighed, tossing her phone onto the bed and leaning back against the wall. Edmund's words from their last conversation still rang in her ears: "Sometimes, protecting you means keeping the truth from you."