Eliana's pov By mid-morning, the house smelled like coffee and toast and that sweetness that only comes when children sleep too late for the first time in weeks. I watched Adrian move through the kitchen, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, as if the weight of courtrooms and traitors and buried secrets had finally slid off his shoulders overnight.Maybe it had.Or maybe we were just pretending.I didn’t care. Pretending felt like hope.Around noon, a knock rattled the front door — three quick raps, sharp and out of place against the soft hush of our Miami street.Adrian froze. We’d gotten used to knocks meaning threats — court summons, nosy reporters, or Eliora’s next half-dead messenger. But this one didn’t carry that chill.Vanessa stood on the porch, sunglasses perched on her head, holding a paper bag like she’d just come from the bakery down the street.“You look like you haven’t slept,” Adrian said.“I haven’t,” she shot back, brushing past him and into the foyer. She dropped the bag o
Last Updated : 2025-08-16 Read more