Bernice hadn’t said a single word since sliding into the back seat of the Uber, but the tension sat with her like a living thing. The driver glanced at her in the mirror once, twice, then wisely kept his eyes on the road. The city lights flickered across her face, carving shadows along the lines time had etched into her skin. Her hands were folded tightly in her lap, too tightly, nails pressing crescents into her palms but outwardly she remained composed. Her mind, however, was on fire. Voss’s home. His home. The one he had built without her. The memory replayed itself in fragments. Layla’s soft presence, the way she lingered near Maggie as if afraid to breathe too loudly, Voss’s posture, protective, defiant, the way he’d said yes when she asked if he intended to marry that girl. That girl. Bernice’s chest rose sharply at the thought. Twelve years. Twelve years she had been separated from her son, torn away, misunderstood, treated like a villain by forces she never spoke of.
Last Updated : 2025-11-27
LOGIN
