Mia's POVI called Scarlett at eight in the morning because I did not sleep last night. The phone rang twice before her groggy voice answered."Jesus, Mia. What time is it?""Thomas knew." The words came out flat. Empty. "He's known Kyle was there this whole time."A pause. The sound of rustling sheets."Shit," Scarlett said. "Shit, shit, shit.""And you don't sound surprised."Another pause. Longer this time."Mia—""You knew too.""Not exactly. I...suspected."I was sitting on my kitchen floor. The tiles were cold against my legs. Gas lay beside me."How long?" I asked."How long what?""How long have you suspected?"Scarlett sighed. The sound carried through the phone like smoke. "Remember that fight Morton and I had? The big one, before our divorce?"I remembered. Scarlett had called me crying. "It was about Kyle," I said."I kept asking Morton questions. It didn't make sense to me."The twins were still asleep. I could hear Alexander's breathing through the baby monitor, that so
Mia's POVThomas moved around my kitchen with the practiced ease of someone who belonged there. Salt. Pepper. The particular way he held a wooden spoon that made me think of Sunday mornings and safety. "She died two years ago," I said, watching his hands still over the pan. "Two years, Thomas. And nobody told me."He nodded slowly. The meat sizzled. Steam rose between us like a wall."That's terrible," he said quietly. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way."Something in his tone made me pause. "You don't seem surprised," I said.His hand tightened on the wooden spoon. "Well, I mean, she was older. These things happen.""She wasn't that old. And she was healthy the last time I saw her."Thomas kept stirring. The meat was browning now, filling the kitchen with the smell of cumin and onions. Normal dinner smells. "People hide illness sometimes," he said carefully. "Especially from family. They don't want to worry anyone.""How would you know what Catherine would or wouldn't do?"Th
Mia's POVThe drive home felt like swimming through thick honey, each mile stretched into eternity by the phantom ache in my ankle and the phantom pain in my chest that had nothing to do with physical injury. It’s like ascending through layers of water, pressure building in my ears until I had to swallow hard to make it pop.I stood outside my apartment door for a long moment, key poised at the lock, listening to the sounds of life filtering through the wood. Gas barking with the particular timber that meant he was playing, not alarmed. The twins' laughter bubbling up like champagne foam.The key turned with a soft click that sounded like a small bone breaking."Mama!" Alexander launched himself at me the moment I stepped through the door, his small body colliding with my legs with the force of a tiny meteorite. The impact sent a fresh bolt of pain through my injured ankle, but I welcomed it."Easy, baby," I murmured, steadying myself against the doorframe while my son wrapped his ar
Mia's POV"Do you think you're funny?" The words escaped through gritted teeth as I stared at him.Kyle's face was exhausted. I was done reading into his expressions. "Get lost," I said, turning away from him while hobbling on a sprained ankle. "Just... get lost, Kyle."I limped toward the parking lot. The evening air was thick with humidity and the promise of rain. How fitting. Behind me, I heard footsteps. Of course he was following me. Of course Kyle Branson couldn't just let me walk away with the last word. He never could."Mia, wait."I kept walking. The parking lot stretched before me like an obstacle course, filled with cars that all looked identical under the harsh fluorescent lights. Where had I parked? Everything looked the same when you were running on adrenaline and rage."Please, just listen—""No." I whipped around so fast that pain shot up my leg, but I welcomed it. Physical pain was honest. It didn't lie or manipulate or pretend to be something it wasn't. "No, I will
Mia's POV"Don't touch me!" The words tore from my throat.I stared at him, this familiar stranger. "So you're done pretending then? No more Jackson Maxwell? "Hairline fractures running through his composure."Mia—""Oh, don't." I held up my hand. "Don't you dare! Tell me, Kyle, how exhausting was it? Maintaining that ridiculous performance day after day?"I took a step closer, ignoring the fire shooting up my ankle, and studied his face . "Let me guess. You had to get up extra early every morning to apply whatever they use to make your skin look different. Whiter, wasn't it? Like you'd been living under a rock for months. And the hair, God, did you actually bleach it?"His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath skin."Oh." I laugh with tear. "The facial structure changes, right? What did they do, file down your cheekbones? Reshape your jaw? You look like someone took a chisel to your face."I leaned in closer. "And these ridiculous colored contacts. Hazel instead of brown. Did you
Mia's POVA thick Manila envelope, addressed in Catherine's distinctive handwriting: "Trust Documents—Alexander and Ethan Williams." Her handwriting had always been elegant. I almost ripped open the folder. Notarized signatures sprawled across designated lines in various shades of black and blue ink, and the letterhead of a well-known financial institution.The trust fund Catherine had established for the two boys was enormous. I realized with shame that I hadn't read it carefully at the time Catherine had first presented these documents to me. This was a standard arrangement made by affluent families to ensure the financial security of their heirs. I forced myself to continue searching, papers crackling as I sifted through them.This wasn't what I was looking for.I kept flipping through the scattered documents until I came across a certified letter from a law firm I didn't recognize, still sealed in its original envelope. The return address was embossed in understated gold letteri