Knoxx’s Point of ViewI shouldn’t be here again.Not in this place. Not in this smell of metal and bleach and things no one dares to say out loud. Not in these gray corridors where the walls feel too close, too watchful. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz faintly, flickering like they’re tired of pretending they still work.This is my third visit to this prison. But this time, I’m not here to see Dolly.I’m here to see a ghost she gave a name to.The guard doesn’t ask questions anymore. He just nods once and leads me down the same winding path, his boots echoing against the concrete like a metronome ticking toward something I don’t want to face.They put me in a different room today. Smaller. Dimmer. No window. One table. Two chairs. A camera I pretend not to notice in the corner of the ceiling.
Caroline’s Point of ViewHe shows up without warning.No text. No call. Not even a polite “Are you free?” just to test the waters. Adrian simply appears—like gravity pulled him to me and he decided he didn’t need permission to arrive.I spot him from the second floor lobby through the sleek glass railings. He’s wearing slate-gray slacks, a navy blue button-down, the sleeves casually rolled up like he’s trying to look less perfect, more approachable. One hand grips Liam’s tiny one. The other waves to the receptionist like they’ve been friends for years.Liam is bouncing slightly with excitement as he peers around the lobby, eyes wide like he’s at an amusement park.I feel a mix of emotions all at once. Confusion. Irritation. A strange flicker of guilt. But most of all—a pressure in my chest I can’t name. Somet
Caroline’s Point of ViewPenelope shows up with coffee and that look on her face—the one that says I know you’re not okay, and you can’t lie to me about it.She walks into my house like she owns the place, kicking off her heels and tossing her purse on the armrest. “You look like someone who hasn’t slept in a week,” she says, handing me the extra-large cup with extra syrup and extra foam—my guilty favorite.“Thanks,” I mutter, sinking into the couch.She studies me for a beat. “So? Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are we going to sit here and pretend you’ve suddenly developed a mysterious eye twitch and chronic insomnia?”I try to smile. “It’s nothing.”Penelope scoffs. “Caroline. Please.”I hesitate, then let out
Caroline’s Point of ViewI don’t sleep.I lie in bed for hours, eyes wide open, watching the shadows move across the ceiling. Every time I blink, I see Knoxx.Not the Knoxx from years ago. Not the arrogant, untouchable man I fell in love with and hated just as deeply. But this Knoxx—the one who knelt in my office, trembling, his voice breaking as he said Liam was his.Liam is mine.Three words. That’s all it took to crack the world I’ve carefully rebuilt.I want to scream.I want to go back in time.I want to change everything.But it’s too late.I roll over, pushing the blanket down to my waist. The sheets are warm, but I’m cold. Freezing. Because there’s a hollow inside me now that wasn’t there yesterday.And I don’t know
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe day starts like any other.My calendar is packed—budget reviews, a board meeting, a lunch I’ve been dreading with a potential investor. Adrian offered to sit in, of course. But for once, I told him no.I’m trying to do this on my own. Trying to remember what my voice sounds like when it’s not echoing someone else’s.The morning light pours across my desk as I go over Liam’s drawings from yesterday, slipped into my work folder by accident—or maybe on purpose. One is a crooked house, one is what looks like a monster truck, and the last one…Me, him, and Adrian.Three stick figures. Holding hands. A giant sun above us.I trace my finger over the middle figure. Liam gave it Adrian’s green eyes. Not mine. Not Knoxx’s.Knoxx.
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe call comes just past nine in the morning.I’m alone in my office, the door shut, blinds half-closed against the sunlight bleeding through the glass. There’s a spreadsheet open on my laptop, its columns and numbers untouched, blinking like they’re waiting for someone who still cares. I’ve been staring at it for the better part of an hour without reading a single line.My mind hasn’t been in this building for days. Not really. Not since Caroline walked away from me again, and not since I started this private investigation—the one I promised myself I wouldn’t start unless I was ready to know the truth.The phone buzzes against the wood of my desk.Private Number.I already know who it is.I hesitate for a beat. My thumb hovers above the answer icon like it’s a tr