Celeste’s POVI hung up my brother’s call and stared at the quiet street in front of me, still not entirely sure when I should leave the country—or how. My heart was a mess, my thoughts a blur. Every option felt too slow, too risky, or too uncertain.Would it really be better to just disappear?But before I could get too far into that spiral, I heard footsteps behind me.“Miss Monroe.”I turned—and froze.Charles Donelle, tall and sharp-eyed in an expensive-looking coat, was walking toward me with the poise of a man used to being followed. His wife, Lucienne, looking ever elegant in spite of what had happened, trailed just behind him, her expression more reserved.“Mr. Donelle,” I said carefully. “Mrs. Donelle.”I blinked in surprise when I saw them. But Amaya was nowhere in sight. She must’ve already been rushed to the hospital. I half-expected them to blame me for the circus that had unfolded. I had, after all, exposed their daughter’s... involvements.But Charles gave me a short,
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