13

Rain poured down in steady sheets, soaking Vera to the bone. She stood beneath the old oak tree near the gates, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, teeth chattering—not from the cold, but from fear.

Her eyes locked onto the black car, Roman’s car. The headlights cut through the darkness, then disappeared into the night.

He was gone. A shaky breath left her lips, part relief, part exhaustion. After everything she had said to him—every word soaked in anger and pain—she hadn’t known if she’d survive the look in his eyes. Facing him again was the last thing she was ready for.

She slipped back inside the house, closed the door, and leaned against it, trying to steady herself. In the mirror, her reflection stared back—drenched hair clinging to her cheeks, eyes rimmed with fear. But deep beneath that, something told her.

You’re strong. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe. But then—her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with an unknown local number.

Her stomach twisted. She p