(Lara’s POV)My phone rang at nine in the morning while I was pouring coffee in Kyle’s kitchen. The number on the screen made my blood run cold because I had memorized it the way you memorize the sound of a fire alarm. Not because you want to, but because your survival depends on it.Sarah Morrison.I stared at the screen for three rings. My thumb hovered over the decline button, but something inside me, something that had grown teeth over the past few weeks of therapy and legal prep and Kyle’s quiet, stubborn refusal to let me shrink, that something made me press accept instead.“What do you want, Sarah?”“Lara, darling.” Her voice was honey poured over broken glass. Sweet on the surface, sharp underneath, designed to cut you while you were still tasting the sweetness. “I’m calling because I think we can help each other.”“I don’t need your help.”“Oh, but you do.” A pause. The kind Sarah used like a weapon, letting the silence stretch until you started filling it with your own fear.
Last Updated : 2026-10-30 Read more