Se connecterMom claps. “See? Good sense.”Dad groans, drops into a chair, and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Sparklers. But I get to choose the color.”“Deal,” I say, leaning over to kiss his temple. He pretends not to smile but I see it anyway.I never thought I would have this again—a father who tries, really trie
Maya’s POVFrance changed me. I did not expect it to. I thought all I wanted was revenge, a reckoning, a balancing of the scales that would make everything feel right again. But standing at the kitchen window of our townhouse with the late-morning sun warming the old stone, watching Oscar toddle aft
After a few minutes, Emma sits beside me, nudging my shoulder. “How are you really,” she asks, her voice softening.I smile. “Good. Really good. For the first time, everything feels... quiet.”“You deserve quiet.”I nod, my eyes warming. “He is different now. Softer. Present. You should see him read
Emily’s POVSix Months LaterI wake before the alarm, before the morning light even filters through the curtains, to a soft flutter beneath my ribs. A tiny kick, gentle but unmistakably there. I smile into the pillow, pressing my palm over the swell of my stomach. The baby is awake, stretching, gree
Damian’s POVI do not think I exhaled until the plane door shut behind us.No reporters.No blinking notifications.No family emergencies.No corporate disasters waiting like open jaws behind every email.Just Emily beside me, fingers loosely threaded with mine, her head resting on my shoulder as if
Emily’s POVThe morning light over the farm looks unreal, soft as milk, drifting across the grass in wide strokes that make everything glow. It is the kind of light you only see on days you remember forever. A gentle breeze carries the smell of lilac and fresh earth, the decorations swaying slightly
Lyla’s POVThe moment the doors closed, Maya turned on me like a storm. “I hate seeing you like this—like some kind of servant in the Barretts' house. You do things out of kindness, and they just don’t get it. They don’t see you. And let’s be honest, you don’t even have a place there—not officially.
Lyla’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of the garden canopy, spilling soft light across the freshly trimmed hedges and carefully positioned wrought-iron furniture. The air smelled faintly of lilacs and expensive fertilizer, the kind that came in black-and-gold packaging and b
Barrett’s POVThe car was silent, tense like a drawn wire ready to snap. I sat between Maya and Charlotte, a wall of expensive cologne, perfume, and pride keeping us all in separate orbits. Neither of them looked at each other, and frankly, I preferred it that way. Maya, in a sleek dark emerald gown
Charlotte’s POVThe string lights above the terrace twinkled like distant stars, casting a soft, amber glow over the garden that had been transformed for Grandfather’s birthday. I stood by the fountain, my fingers wrapped tightly around a flute of champagne, watching as the guests trickled in, their







