For as long as she could remember, Gina had been a vocal person. She spoke what was on her mind, and she communicated effortlessly. So to be sitting there on the couch, lips moving with no words coming out, was like torture. No, it wasn't like torture - it was torture. Far worse than anything the Count could have done to her.
As Edward's hand settled on her shoulder, she took a staggering breath, trying to swallow all those failed words. "I won't," she said, nodding as she took another breath again. "I won't. Tonight. I-I'll find a hotel room." She didn't know anybody in the building well enough to stay with them, so she'd have to go elsewhere. She'd sneak in when she was calm enough to pack an overnight bag and then leave. Lucas had been in a pitch black mood lately - he'd never notice.