Semua Bab Divorced My Husband And Found Love: Bab 211 - Bab 220

Naomi's povThe rooftop felt like it was breathing.That was the only way I could explain it—the way the night air pulsed with laughter, music, flashing phone lights, the hum of too many emotions packed into one place. My chest felt light, like if I didn't anchor myself to something solid, I might actually drift off into the sky.“Okay, smile again,” Anna said, shoving her phone in my face for what could have been the millionth time. “No, not that smile. The happy one.”“I am happy,” I protested, but I smiled anyway, softer this time, and the camera clicked.“Give us prom queen energy,” Priscilla added dramatically, waving her hands like she was directing a music video.“I literally just got asked to prom,” I chuckled. “Let’s not start crowning me yet.”Too late.The girls erupted again—dramatic cheers, teasing. Someone whistled. Someone else started chanting my name like I just won an award I didn’t apply for.I glanced to my left.Jace was leaning against the low railing at the edge

Third person povA black car, moving too fast, screeched to a stop twenty feet from where the girls sat on the curb. The driver’s side door flew outward and a man practically threw himself out of the vehicle.Calix.His eyes were blazing with barely contained fury. He didn’t bother with exchanging pleasantries or questioning the officers. His stride closed the distance between him and the girls immediately.Naomi was the first he reached. He hauled her against his chest in a crushing embrace that knocked the breath from her lungs. The relief radiating from his grip was almost physical, a trembling that vibrated through the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.“Naomi,” he breathed, his voice a low, gravelly sound, rough with unshed fear. He pulled back, holding her face in his large hands, his thumbs sweeping across her cheeks, checking for injury. His hands gripped her shoulders, firm, grounding, checking her face, her arms, her legs like he expected blood to appear if he looked long

Third person povThe smell of burnt toast usually signaled a normal, if slightly chaotic, morning in the Knight household. Today, it was different.Sunlight spilled softly through the tall windows of the dining room, as if the night before hadn’t ended in sirens, blood, and fear. The long marble-top table was set for breakfast—fresh fruit, a basket of pastries untouched, steam rising from mugs of coffee and tea—but no one was in a hurry to finish or leave the dining room.Harper sat at the far end of the table, shoulders hunched and her hands folded tightly in her lap. She hadn’t reached for anything. Not the toast. Not the juice. Not even the phone resting facedown beside her plate.Delilah moved through the kitchen with care and quietness. She set a plate of eggs in front of Harper, the clatter of ceramic against the marble island sounding like a rocket in the silence.“Eat, Harper,” Delilah said softly.Harper didn’t look up. Her hair hung in limp, dark curtains around her face. S

Third person povLater that night in Naomi’s bedroom, Harper stood near the window, arms wrapped around herself and her fingers twitching nervously against the hem of her oversized sweater as she stared out at the dark sky above. The glass reflected her face back at her—pale, eyes too bright, shoulders pulled tight as if she were bracing for impact.Naomi watched her from the bed, legs crossed, phone forgotten in her hand. “You’ve been pacing for ten minutes,” she said gently. “If you’re trying to wear a hole in the carpet, congratulations. Mission accomplished.”Harper let out a shaky breath that didn’t quite turn into a laugh."I need to go, Naomi,” she said, her voice edgy. “I need to go.”Naomi, who had been trying to focus on a textbook she hadn't turned a page of in twenty minutes, slammed it shut. “Go where? I thought we were over this, Harper. You’re not going anywhere, neither is Hayden.”“I have to leave,” Harper snapped, spinning around. Her eyes were wide, her breath frant

Naomi's povThat night, I didn't even bother pretending I was tired.I sat cross-legged on my bed, phone warm in my hand, staring at the screen like it might decide things for me if I look long enough. The blue light of my phone was the only thing illuminating my room, casting shadows against the walls. It was 1:14 AM. The house was silent, but it was that heavy silence that followed a disaster.I shifted under my duvet, the silk sheets feeling strangely abrasive against my skin. I couldn’t stop seeing them. Those men. The way they’d moved with that terrifying, practiced efficiency.My phone vibrated in my hand, the screen lighting up with Jace’s name. I answered before the first buzz could even finish.“Hey,” he whispered. His voice was a low, grounding anchor in the dark. “You’re still awake.”“I don’t think I’m ever going to sleep again,” I admitted, pulling the covers up to my chin. “Every time I close my eyes, I hear the sound of the guns going off.”I could hear the rustle of pa