When Crystal finally woke up in the cold, sterile, white painted room she couldn't remember how she got there.
She examined her surroundings, the neon lights -one of it was flickering, almost imitating a thunderbolt and heavily disturbing her-the neutral furniture and closed windows-the reason why the air was as thick as the curtains beside the windows.
She tried to remember.
How.
She got here.
What.
happened.
Who.
She was.
But she couldn't remember anything.
Except the hungry flames of a fire, licking over the rooftop of a familiar building and feeding on the wooden planks.
What the hell happened?
Elliot Jensen and Elliot Fintry have a lot in common. They share the same name, the same house, the same school, oh and they hate each other but, as they will quickly learn, there is a fine line between love and hate.