Damon pov I'd barely settled back into the chair beside Evelyn's bed, Willow finally drifting into a deeper sleep against my shoulder, when my phone rang again. I almost let it go to voicemail, bracing myself for another round with my father, but the screen showed a different name entirely. *Mom.* I answered immediately, some old instinct still wired to worry about her even after everything. "Mom?" "Damon." Her voice came through thick, unsteady, and it took me a moment to realize she was crying. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard my mother cry—not during any of the years of quietly enduring my father's companions, not through any of the slights I'd watched her absorb without complaint at every pack function. She'd always been so carefully composed, so practiced at keeping whatever she felt locked down beneath a calm surface. Hearing it crack now sent a fresh spike of alarm through me. "What happened," I asked, standing carefully so I wouldn't jostle Willow, moving towa
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