37586328538562

Stefan said nothing. Elena could feel the gulf between them widening. "Stefan," she whispered.
Then, aloud, she said desperately, "Stefan, what is it?"
He shook his head. Don't shut me out, she thought, but he wouldn't even look at her. "Will she live?"
he asked abruptly.
"The doctor said there was nothing much wrong with her," Matt said. "Nobody's even suggested she
might die."
Stefan's nod was abrupt; then he turned to Elena. "I've got to go," he said. "You're safe now."
She caught his hand as he turned away. "Of course I'm safe," she said. "Because of you."
"Yes," he said. But there was no response in his eyes. They were shielded, dull.
"Call me tomorrow." She squeezed his hand, trying to convey what she felt under the scrutiny of all
those watching eyes. She willed him to understand.
He looked down at their hands with no expression at all, then, slowly, back up at her. And then, at
last, he returned the pressure of her fingers. "Yes, Elena," he whispered, his eyes clinging to hers. The
next minute he was gone.
She took a deep breath and turned back to the crowded room. Aunt Judith was still hovering, her
gaze fixed on what could be seen of Elena's torn dress underneath the cloak.
"Elena," she said, "what happened?" And her eyes went to the door through which Stefan had just
left.
A sort of hysterical laughter surged up in Elena's throat, and she choked it back. "Stefan didn't do
it," she said. "Stefan saved me." She felt her face harden, and she looked at the police officer behind
Aunt Judith. "It was Tyler, Tyler Smallwood…"