(Serena's perspective)
[Present time]
Soren finds me an hour after my outburst curled up in his secret garden, tucked under the shade of a willow, feet half dipped into the lake, watching the reflection of the stars play in the water as fish and minnows dart about the surface, sending a smattered array of ripples kaleidoscope across the shallows. I am sure if he had wanted to find me sooner, come and talk me out of the catastrophic panic that had ensued and sweep me up into his arms he would have done so, but in honesty, I am grateful that he didn't. Turns out I desperately needed some time to think about this, about everything. Everything is a mess.
