Morana's Point Of View
The soft glow of my phone screen bathed my dark bedroom in an eerie, silvery light as I lay sprawled across the king-sized bed, the luxurious silk sheets tangled around my legs. The room was quiet, almost unnervingly so, save for the rhythmic tapping of my fingers on the edge of the bed and the soft hum of my phone.
I kicked one leg lazily in the air, letting it float for a moment before it fell back to the bed with a gentle thud. A cloud of silken hair tumbled over my face, brushing against my cheek, but I didn't care. I was too enthralled by the small, wicked screen in front of me.
The footage played out crystal-clear like a movie made just for me.
There was Edward, crumpling to the ground in an agonizing heap. His chest rising and falling in labored breaths, his eyes wide with confusion and panic. The smug, self-assured man I once feared... now reduced to nothing but a pathetic heap on the marble floor.
