Katherine died. Her heart stopped beating at night, and the sudden quietness was heard all through the house. There was a part of me that felt delighted, fresh, comforted as if I had nothing to worry about anymore. Another part of me wished she was alive, in pain, tortured for what she had done to me. The part which all I felt was comfort won, and I felt at ease now that Katherine was finally dead. 

   The moment she died, I fell asleep once again. It wasn't like last time, but just because I was tired and didn't want to deal with anyone. When the morning came, I was woken up with Caroline ripping the sheets from my body and basically throwing me in the shower with cold water running. As soon as the cold water touched the top of my head and went all over my body, I was wide awake. I glared at Caroline as she stood in front of me with her hands on her waist and a proud smile on her lips. 

   "Good, you're awake," she smiled. "Take a shower; I could smell you before I even entered the house."

   "I am offended by those words," I mumbled, standing and changing the cold to hot water. "Could you leave so I can shower in peace?"

   As soon as Caroline left, I took a quick shower and dressed myself in a white dress and a yellow sweater on top. I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through my hair, and walked out. Caroline sat on my bed, scrolling through her phone with her legs crossed and her bottom lip between her teeth. She looked up as soon as I closed the door, forced me a smile, and patted the empty side next to her. 

   "I've been calling you nonstop for hours," she began with a grown, throwing her head back in annoyance. "Clara, I needed to talk to you!"

   "You're here now," I said, crossing my legs and taking a good look at her. "What's up?"

   She took a deep breath and turned to me. "What would you say if I told you a certain awful person was in town, I ran into him in the woods and sort of kissed him. He was there and obviously wanted to kiss me, so I thought, 'we'll just make-out', but then it felt really good to kiss him, so then I kind of, totally had sex with him. I swear, I didn't plan to do it. Now, I feel terrible."

   "And who are we talking about?" I asked, arching a brow. I imagined that she was talking about Tyler Lockwood, who arrived the moment Katherine died. Apparently, he was a parting gift from Rebekah. 

   "It may have been Klaus..." Caroline said, slowing down each word. 

   My eyes widened with surprise. "Okay, wow... Wow, um." I scratched the back of my head and looked at her again. "Really?"

   "Would I make something like this up?" she groaned. "This is why I need you tell me what an awful person I am."

   "Caroline..." I sighed, shaking my head. 

   "No, tell me!" she whined, pulling my arm. "Clara, I need you tell me that I am a horrible person."

   "Fine," I sighed and stood in front of her. "Caroline, you're the least awful person I know. You're an amazing friend that deserves to feel happiness, and maybe Klaus was just trying to show you that."

   "Not helping!"

   For the first time since last night, I let out a smile. "I can't tell you that you're horrible because I would be lying." She fell back on he bed with her hands covering her eyes. I took a seat besides her and let out a sigh. "Klaus isn't a bad person, Care."

   "He tried to kill all of us at least once," she said in disbelief. 

   "Okay, maybe he is bad, but he's not horrible when you get to know him," I mumbled with a soft smile. "I spent a lot of time with him, and I can tell you that he's just stupid."

   She laughed and shook her head, sitting up. "I can't believe you're actually telling me this about Klaus," she said as she shook her head once again. "You're supposed to hate him, Clara!"

   "Sadly, I can't really hate him," I mumbled, glancing down at my hands. Since she told me that little fact, I felt the necessity to tell her what I had learned. I twiddled my thumbs and took a deep breath. "Caroline, I need to tell you something."

   "Please tell me it has nothing to do with you and Damon," she immediately said, raising her hand over at me. "He was up here for the majority of the night and that worried me. Clara, he's using you because he can't get over Elena!"

   "Nothing happened between us," I stopped her, shaking my head. "No, Caroline, that's not it, although it does have to do with Damon."

   "Stefan's better for you!" she continued, standing from the bed and beginning to pace. "He was so distraught while you were in your sleep. Did you know that he didn't leave your side until I made him leave? I wanted to help him with what he was going through after being in that safe for two whole months, and he didn't want the help because he was too busy watching over you, and..."

   "I was pregnant!" I interrupted, making her stop. She stopped walking and slowly turned her head to me, her face filled with astonishment and confusion.

   "What?" she asked. "Clara Forbes, what are you talking about?"

   I sighed and looked down at my hands once again. "Before Katherine killed me, I was pregnant," I said, slowly, too afraid to even utter the words. "Two months. I could have had the life I always wanted if I just didn't go out to meet Damon, which in reality was Katherine.

   "Wow," she breathed, taking a seat next to me. "You used to be pregnant with Damon's baby?" she asked, her tone filled with disbelief. "Okay, wow, honestly, that's more shocking than Klaus and I."

   I nodded. "And the worse thing is that it's been almost two hundred years and I still feel pain," I uttered. My hand automatically reached for my stomach, something it had done for quite some while. "I shouldn't be feeling like this."

   "It's perfectly normal," Caroline immediately said, turning to me. "You wanted a family, Clara, and that bitch Katherine took it away from you because she couldn't stand that you had two brothers that were irrevocably in love with you."

   "I wouldn't say irrevocably in love with me," I said as I felt my cheeks heat up with her sudden words.

   "Are you kidding me?" she snapped, giving me a toothy grin. "Clara, Stefan has been in love with you since you were children. Honestly, you must have read his journals, right?" She turned to the front and brought her hands up, leaving them widely open. "March 23, 1963, I saw Clara today and she looked beautiful. I wish I could kiss her." She turned back to me. "Okay, well, not those words, but something similar." Her smile slowly fell. "Wait, have you seen Stefan?"

   I shook my head. "No, not since Silas died," I said, biting my lower lip. A look of relief flashed on her face as she nodded. 

   "Well, okay." She stood and smacked her hands against her thighs. "I'm glad you're okay, Clara. I missed you!" She gave me a quick hug before pulling away. "I'll see you tonight?"

   "Tonight?" I questioned, confused. "What's happening tonight?"

   "Oh, Matt is throwing a party," she said. "At the Lockwood mansion, everyone's inviting, and I won't go unless you come with me." She crossed her arms and let out a groan. "Tyler's gonna be there and I don't think I can face him."

   "I'll be there," I nodded, forcing a small smile. "I think if I stay here for a bit longer, I'll probably go crazy."

   Caroline left afterwards, still mumbling about the party and how I needed to dress up to go. I nodded at her, closed the door, and sighed. It didn't bother me that Caroline was always trying to make the happiest out of any moment, but what bothered me was that she was slightly pushy. As I walked away, someone knocked on the door. I sighed and turned to answer it, thinking it would be Caroline saying that she may have forgotten her phone. 

   "Did you forget you..." I trailed off as I saw that it wasn't Caroline in front of me. There stood a handsome man with dark hair, dark eyes, light olive skin, and a solid jaw line. There was a cocky smirk around his lips as he leaned against the doorway.

   "Hello," he said, pushing by me and walking in. He held a large bag in his side, which obviously were not clothes. "I hear Damon Salvatore lives here."

   "And you are?" I asked, closing the door and turning to him with my arms crossed. 

   "My name's Enzo," he said as he dropped the bag and turned to me, the same smirk on his lips. "I'm an old friend of Damon's."

   "That's not good," I sighed, walking towards the small bar in the parlour to serve myself a glass of bourbon. "Every old friend of Damon's wants to kill him. So, what are you here for?"

   The man let out a chuckle and took a seat on the sofa, making himself comfortable. "No, not gonna kill him. I just brought him a little present."

   I pointed to the corner of my lip. "You missed something there," I told him, leaning against the other sofa and staring at him. "So, who's the present?" The bag he had a body in there, it was obvious. It didn't move, so I thought that whoever was there could be dead. When I listened in close, the heartbeat was faint.

   "It's a secret," the man said, pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm Enzo, by the way. I should introduce myself since you're also a friend of Damon's. Tell me, did he also leave you to die in a fire?"

   "Actually, he saved me from one," I said, recalling the first night I had arrived. It was the Founder's Day Celebration, there were fireworks, and then a horrible headache. I was injected with vervain, thrown onto the floor, and almost burned to death until Damon and Stefan came to the rescue.

   "You must be pretty important then," Enzo hummed, nodding. He stared at me as I drank, eyes raking up and down, deep in thought. "Hmm, I think I know who you are."

   I raised a brow. "We just met."

   "Golden hair, dazzling green eyes with a stare that makes men tremble at their feet, small pink lips that always pout—oh, I've heard so much about you." He stood from the seat and walked over to me, taking one step at a time. "You're Clara Forbes."

   "And how have you heard about me?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I'm sure I have never met you."

   "Damon continuously spoke about you for the five years we were together," he said with a smirk widening around his lips. "I must say, you're much more prettier in person."

   The front door open, then. I turned my head to see Damon walking in. He stopped as soon as he saw me in front of Enzo, sighed and slowly laid his hands on his waist. "Enzo," he sighed. 

   "Hello, Damon," he greeted, taking a step away from him. "We got a bit of business to attend to."

   "You missed a spot," Damon said, motioning to the side of his lip.

   Enzo chuckled and took another step back, turning and walking away to the fireplace. As soon as he stepped away, I moved towards Damon with brows raised in curiosity, as a sign of wanting to know who the hell this guy was. He responded with widening his eyes and shrugging his shoulders, maybe meaning that he would tell me later. 

   "God, I love a good fire," Enzo said as he rubbed his hands together in front of the fireplace. He let out a chuckle and glanced back at Damon and I. "Oh, that's so wrong, isn't it? Since you left me to burn alive in one."

   "Didn't we already do this?" Damon asked in annoyance. "You tried to make me feel guilty. I save your life, we're even." Enzo laughed at him. Damon's eyes went from the vampire to the bag. "What's in the bag?"

   "More like who," Enzo corrected. "Since you and I last spoke, I've done a bit of soul searching; had a trip to the barber, did a little research, which revealed to me that you killed almost every member of the Whitmore family in the years since you escaped, leaving just one alive each time to carry on the family name—producing a whole new generation of victims for you to slaughter, exactly as you said you'd do back when you and I were cellmates."

   "Well, you know me, I like to keep my promises," Damon said, not in all happy.

   "And it occurred to me that perhaps I wrote you off too quickly," Enzo continued. "That, in fact, the Damon Salvatore I remember is alive and well. I have a present for him." He moved towards the bag and opened it, revealing a boy.

   "You brought me Aaron Whitmore," Damon noted, staring at the boy. It was quiet for several seconds, the only sound being the crackling fire and the faint heartbeat. "Alive."

   "He's the last of the Whitmore clan," Enzo said. "Do you remember this vervain wrist watch?" He picked up the arm of the boy, a shiny silver watch around his wrist. "Dr. Whitmore never took it off even when he was rooting around in our chest cavities. How lifting that Aaron should die while wearing it, too. So, do you want to kill him or shall I?" He let out a laugh and marched to the table with the bourbon, serving himself a glass and then taking a seat back on the chair. He leaned back and brought his leg up on the arm rest, making himself comfortable. 

   "Clara, go upstairs," Damon said, pointing up the stairs with his chin. "I'll be there in a few."

   "I'd rather stay," I said as I crossed my arms, glancing over at the comfortable-looking Enzo. "Who knows what he might do?"

   "As much as I enjoyed your quality bourbon, I feel confident our next drink will taste better with young Aaron's dying screams ringing in our ears," Enzo chuckled, standing from the chair. "And your final act of revenge will bring us both closure and a new beginning."

   "I'm just curious," Damon began, "but do you ask all your friends to prove their loyalty by killing someone over drinks?"

   "His grandfather split our eyes open with a scalpel!" Enzo snapped, his smile suddenly changing to straight lips. "You've taken it out on everyone else in the Whitmore family. I thought you wanted this."

   "Would you believe he's a friend of a friend?"

   "No, because that would force me to believe that you've gone soft, when you and I both know that your first impulse when I presented him to you was to rip out his throat." He looked angry, as if he would snap at any moment. "Show me my old friend is still in there someplace."

   When Damon's eyes panned to Aaron, I placed a hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. I could see the thought working in his mind, wondering whether to bite into the boy or not. As I stared at the boy, I realised that he was the boy Damon had told me about while he caught me up with everything that happened while I was gone. He and Elena were taken by a Dr. Wesley Maxfield, a microbiology professor at Whitmore College. This doctor was a member of the Augustine, a secret society at Whitmore that experimented on vampires, because they were curious of our enhanced senses and abilities. It turned out that Elena's father was part of that society, which broke her heart. Damon had told me that he was taken by the society in the Fifties, and escaped five years later while the building burned down. Never did he mention this Enzo, and maybe he was the friend he left behind and made him turn off his humanity back then.

   "End this," Enzo said, almost like a plead. "for both of us."

   Damon's phone began to grin. He immediately turned and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Really bad timing, Blondie," he said. "I'm dealing with a blast from the past."

   "Then deal with it quickly and get your ass over to Tyler's," Caroline responded, speaking fast. "Elena is here. Oh, and bring Clara with you, because I know that she won't really come here without being forced."

   "Hmm," Damon hummed.

   "It looks like he's coming around," Enzo spoke up, pointing at Aaron's body with his open hand. Aaron slowly began to sit up, rubbing a hand on his head as he let out a groan. "It's time to come to a decision, Damon," Enzo continued. "Do you want to kill him or shall I?"

   For a moment, it seemed that Damon was thinking over killing Aaron Whitmore. A second later, he sped over to Enzo and snapped his neck. "I hate that line," he said as he stared at Enzo's slumped body on the sofa. 

   "I didn't see that one coming," Aaron said, looking surprised.

   "Me neither," I said, walking closer. If Damon would bite into the boy, I would stop him. I knew that he didn't want to, but he wasn't exactly at his best at the moment. 

   "I can't kill you," Damon told the boy. "Long story."

   "Because Elena would hate you for it," Aaron said, slowly, "why you can't kill me."

   Damon glared at the boy. He took a step towards him, and ripped the watch from his wrist as the vervain on it burned his hand. "Go back to college, pack up your entire life," he began to compel. "There's one road that heads out of town. Take it north until you hit ice. Don't ever come back."

   Aaron slowly turned and began to walk away, his arms stiff by his side. As soon as he left, I turned back to Damon. "See, if I tell that you did this to Elena, she will absolutely love it," I said, hoping that I could make him feel a bit better. 

   He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Come on, we're going to a party. You need to have some fun."

   The ride in the car was silent except for the motor and the music coming from the radio. I leaned my head against the window and stared at the passing trees, then I glanced down at the passing asphalt. Damon began to hum to the song, softly, as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. 

   "Have you seen Stefan?" I asked, breaking the silence. I turned my head to him and raised a brow. "I haven't seen him since that night."

   Damon shifted in his seat and shrugged his arms. "I only had a drink with him last night," he said. "I saw him this morning after burying Katherine, but not after that."

   "Oh," I mumbled, nodding. I took in a deep breath and nodded. "I told Caroline."

   "And what did she say?"

   "What do people say when they hear that you lost a baby?" I asked, almost sarcastically. "They say they're sorry, even though it has nothing to do with them. I think she didn't know how to answer to that, and it scares me. What will Stefan say if I tell him?"

   "He'll say that he's sorry," Damon said as he let out a sigh. "Knowing my brother, he'll probably blame himself for not being able to help you." His hands tightened around the steering wheel. "Oh, by the way, when you see Stefan, he might have a bruised eye."

   "Why?" I asked, raising a brow in confusion.

   He shrugged his shoulders. "My fist collided with his face," he said. "It was an accident."

   "How was that an accident?" I asked, staring at him with wide eyes. "Why would you punch him, Damon?"

   "Like I said," he said, stopping the car, "accident." He let out a sigh and turned off the car, pulling his hands back. "We're here."

   I turned my head to see the Lockwood residence filled with people. They were all laughing, dancing, having the time of their life with no worry. I let out a breath and climbed out of the car, scanning the area to see if I saw anyone that I knew. So far, I didn't see absolutely anyone that I knew. There were mostly teenagers, underage drinkers who obviously didn't want to miss the party. It was a small town, everyone must have heard about it.

   "And we can't get in," Damon sighed, standing in front of the door. "Great."

   "Matt!" I yelled, hoping he could hear me over the loud music and half-drunken teenagers.

   "I'm gonna go to the back," Damon said, annoyed. 

   "I'll keep yelling for Matt," I said, making a face. Damon patted my shoulder as he walked away, leaving me to stand alone in the front door of the house. I admitted, I looked ridiculous just standing there . One of the many disadvantages of being a vampire was that you needed to be invited in to a private property. When I saw a mop of blonde hair walking around, I almost jumped. "Matt!"

   The blue-eyed boy glanced at me, and smiled, which was surprising. "Clara!" he greeted as he walked over to me. "Hey, glad you could make it."

   "Uh, thanks?" I was confused at the sudden change he had towards me. During prom, he wasn't exactly the nicest person towards me, and maybe that changed. "Hey, if you'd be nice enough to invite me in..."

   "Oh, yeah," he chuckled, nodding. "Clara, you can come in."

   Slowly, I stepped over the doorway and smiled once I was inside. "Thanks," I said with a smile. 

   "I'm gonna make some rounds," he said, the same loopy smile on his lips. "Have fun, you seriously needed after the week you've had."

   "You're telling me," I mumbled, almost making a face. 

   "Here." He pushed a red cup towards me. "You can think of this as an apology gift from me, for being such an ass to you."

   "Oh, uh, thanks." I grabbed the cup and stared at it for a couple of seconds, then looked back up at Matt. "I don't blame you for hating me, Matt, honestly, so you shouldn't apologise over something like that. I mean, I sort of did kill you. Do you think we can start over as friends?" I pushed my empty hand towards him. "Hi, I'm Clara."

   Matt let out a laugh, but took my hand and shook it. "I'm Matt. Have fun, Clara." He saluted me and walked off, immediately talking to someone who pulled him into a circle of drinkers.

   I took a deep breath and took a sip of the beer, enjoying how it soothed me slowly. As I sipped from the cup, I began to look around. I needed to talk to Stefan, I needed to see him. For the next few minutes, I walked around with a half empty cup of beer and eyes darting at every direction. I let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes to stop myself. My head was hurting, all the voices around me and their beating hearts being the things I heard the most. I took several deep breaths, calming myself. I could smell the blood, someone must have gotten a cut. When I opened my eyes, he stood a few feet away from me.

   "Stefan," I uttered, surprised. Something inside of me stirred, a surge of happiness that began from the top of my toes and fingers to the top of my head. 

   He turned to me when I said his name. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped slightly open, and then a smile spread. He pushed through the crowd until he stood in front of me, the smile on his lips only growing a bit more. "Clara," he said, just as softly as I did. He cupped mu cheeks in his hands and pulled me towards him, laying a kiss on my lips. I clutched his shirt in my hands, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

   It took only a few minutes, only a small moment in which our lips came together to feel completely happy.

   I pulled away from him and let out a small laugh, which sounded as if I were drunk. "It took you that long to kiss me?" I asked, glancing from his lips to his eyes.

   "Well, it actually took me about a hundred and fifty years," he said, letting out a small laugh at the end. "You're okay, Clara..."

   As those three words escaped his mouth, my smile suddenly faded. "Uh, yeah," I said, forcing the smile back on my lips. "Yeah, I'm fine."

   He frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You were crying last night."

   "I'm fine," I assured him. "I felt every death of every doppelgänger, that's why I was crying."

   If I told him that I used to be pregnant, my happiness with him would fade. He would hate me, he would hate Damon, and my heart would be broken again. But, I was a Forbes—we dined on a diet of heartbreak. I should be used to having my heart broken.

   Stefan's phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket, Caroline's name flashing on the screen. He let out a sigh. "She might need you tonight," he said, glancing up at me. "Tyler got angry when he found out about her and Klaus, and she's heartbroken." He slid the green icon to the side then pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

   "If you see Clara, tell her to please meet me at the boarding house," Caroline immediately said. "I'm calling her and she's not picking up her phone."

    I tapped my pockets and realised that I must have left my phone in my room.

   "I'll tell her," Stefan said, smiling over at me.

    "Thanks," Caroline breathed. "Have you told her about what happened between you and Katherine?"

   I furrowed my brows and stared at him as I crossed my arms. "What happened between you and Katherine?" I asked. 

   "Oh, no," Caroline groaned from the other side. "I'm so, so, so, so, sorry!"

   "Stefan, what happened between you and Katherine?" I demanded, my heart accelerated. I felt like I knew what happened, but I hoped it was less than what ran through my mind.

   "Clara," he sighed, shaking his head. He pushed his phone to his back pocket and took a step closer to me, grabbing my hands. "I'm sorry."

   I pulled my hands away from him. "What happened?"

   He glanced down at the floor and shook his head. "A mistake," he said. "It was a mistake. I felt sorry for her, and my emotions got the best of me."

   Each word that left his mouth caused my heart to break a little more. "You slept with her," I finished, shaking my head and swallowing hard. "You slept with her, didn't you?"

   "I kissed her," he corrected. "Clara, it was a mistake. I felt sorry for her and my emotions got the best of me. It meant nothing."

   "I don't care that it meant nothing!" I said, my voice getting louder. "You kissed her, Stefan, after you said you loved me." I pushed away the tears and shook my head. I let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking my head. "You know, maybe our destiny is that we can never be truly happy," I said.

   "No, Clara, wait–"

   "Screw you, Stefan Salvatore," I spat before walking away. I pushed through the crowds until I was outside. Once outside, I stopped and took a deep breath, and then I broke down. I held on to myself and cried, because I was stupid. I was stupid for falling for Stefan, stupid for confessing my love, stupid for actually believing that I would be happy with him.

   "Clara?" someone asked, laying their hand on my back. "Hey, what happened?"

   I looked up at Damon. "Did you know that Stefan kissed Katherine?" I asked. "That's why you punched him, right, because you found out that he kissed her?"

   "Yeah," he breathed, glancing down.

   "Did you also tell him not to tell me?"

   "You're going through enough already," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "If he told you, he'd break your heart, and I'd have to punch him again."

   "Thanks," I softly said, giving him a smile. "I wanted to hit him, but I couldn't even move."

   "I know," he nodded, pursing his lips.

   I wiped away the tears and looked up at him, seeing a frown on his face. "What happened?" I asked, sniffing back. "Did you find Elena?"

   "Oh, I found her," he nodded, walking over to his car. I followed after him, no longer wanting to be in that party. "And she made it clear that wants nothing to with me."

   "But, she loves you," I muttered, glancing down at my hand. "That doesn't sound like Elena."

   "Well, it was her," he said, making a face. "She made it pretty clear."

   I let out a scoff and shook my head. "It seems that we're always getting our hearts broken," I said, leaning back on the seat and glancing over at him. "No wonder we're such great friends."

   Damon pursed his lips and nodded, a small smile appearing around his lips. The smile turned into a smirk. "What's the use of being good if there's nothing good in our lives?" he asked. He suddenly pressed the breaks when a figure appeared in the middle of the road. Enzo stood there, smirking, looking half angry. Damon got out the car. "Perfect. Just the man I wanted to see."

   "Damon," I said, getting out the car. "You're not thinking straight."

   "I'm thinking perfectly," he said, turning back to me. "Clara, it's stupid how they expect us to be these perfect and reasonable people that will forgive everything that has changed us. I'm not perfect, I'm not even half. I'm tired of it, aren't you?" He turned back to Enzo and let a smirk appear on his lips. "I changed my mind. How about we hunt down Aaron Whitmore?"

   "I knew the old Damon was in there," Enzo said, smirking. He glanced over at me. "How about you, sweetheart?"

   I took a deep breath and almost turned back to the car, when I realised that I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to face Stefan, or Caroline, or anyone that would say something about that I needed to forget him. No, at that moment, I needed to have fun. And sadly, that fun would be tearing into the neck of the boy Damon compelled to never come back.

   "Yes," I breathed, crossing my arms. "I'm a bit hungry."

   Damon began to teach him something he had done for so long: he laid in the middle of the road and waited for a car to come, the driver would stop and get out to help, and that was when he would feed. He called it a game. 

   I went first. I laid down in the middle of the road and stared up at the sky, seeing the stars twinkling down at me. Each star was a different colour, lighter or darker, different shades of colours. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, hating myself every single second. A car stopped besides me, their driver immediately coming to my side. 

   "Are you okay?" they asked. "Oh my god, I should call 911!" When I heard him move to the car, I opened my eyes and sped to stand behind him. He turned around and let out a scream. I gripped his hair and pulled his head to the side, immediately sinking my teeth into his neck. At that moment, as the blood swept from my teeth to my mouth, I forgot about the pain. All I could think about was the blood, the sweet substance that made me feel ravenous. He pleaded for his life, pleaded for me to stop, but I continued to feed. I pulled away, the blood decorating my lips and neck. 

   I was a Forbes—we dined on a diet of heartbreak.