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64

MEXICO. HOTEL ROOM.

Toc. Toc.

Damon's senses slowly emerged from the fog of sleep as the persistent knocks on the door pierced through his consciousness. He turned to his side and saw Kisha, her peaceful form nestled beside him. Her brown locks cascaded gently over the pillow, reminiscent of Elena's, yet distinctly different.

More knocks followed, each one amplifying the pounding ache in his head.

"I'm coming, damn it," Damon grumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep and the remnants of last night's indulgence in alcohol.

In recent days, Damon had found solace in the numbing embrace of liquor, drowning his troubles in a haze of intoxication. The clarity of sobriety had become a rare luxury, elusive amidst the whirlwind of chaos that had engulfed his life.

Toc. Toc.

Another insistent rap echoed through the room, disrupting the heavy silence that hung in the air like a suffocating shroud.

With a grunt of impatience, Damon stumbled out of bed, his limbs heavy with fatigue and the weight of
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