— Sophia’s POV —
He didn’t speak for hours.
Not a word.
Not even a breath too loud.
The key was still in his palm when he returned. I saw it in his hands, it wasn't possible to hide it because it gleamed, just like it had been gotten out from a buried past or memory.
His fingers were clenched firmly around it, like it was going to disappear if he freed his hands.
And yet… I knew better.
It was the thread fraying him open.
Ethan didn’t lie down. Didn’t rest. Just stood there beside the crib, arms folded like a statue in mourning, eyes fixed on our baby’s soft breath.
I sat up slowly. I felt a sharp pain at my back, but i wasn't awake because of that.
It was because of her.
Ivory.
And the way his silence screamed louder than any confession.
“Ethan,” I murmured, fingers curling against the sheets. “What did she give you?”
He didn’t turn. But I caught it—the slight twitch in his jaw. Like he’d just swallowed something sharp and bitter.
“Nothing of value,” he said finally, voice rough.
I
