TERESA'S P.O.V.
Two days. Two days of driving, surviving on vending machine snacks and lukewarm motel coffee that tasted like it had existential crises of its own. My back ached, my head pounded, and my only companions were two adorable, drooling bundles of joy in the backseat. Not that they cared about my misery—they were either peacefully snoring or giggling at some secret twin language joke I'd never understand.
I leaned forward, squinting at the road as if it could magically solve my problems. How had my life come to this? Oh, right—Adrian. That impossibly charming, infuriatingly overprotective vampire who had kept me under lock and key for two whole years. Two years without a single trip to the mall or even the joy of fumbling with self-checkout machines. Forget freedom; I wasn't even trusted with cash. Everything I needed was handed to me on a silver platter—or sometimes an actual silver platter because Adrian had standards.
