en

he warmth on my skin felt like a mockery. Inside, I was frozen,

Vivian's triumphant smirk played on a loop in my head.

n explanation. I wan

e, though it had never truly felt like one. I found them in th

father, Harold Williams. She was spinning her tale, t

bbed. "The Millers are furious. She's ruined everything, Daddy. She'

ce raw. "You're the liar, Vivian!

o flicker of fatherly affection. Only a cold, calculating rage.

w and dangerous. "Are the tabloids goin

report, a desperate, pathetic off

d ripped it into tiny pieces. The white scraps

," he snarled. His only concern was the company's sto

evaporated, leaving behind an icy v

rds out before his hand flew across my face. The crack of the impact

chest heaving, "we will tell everyone you've gone abroad for an ex

aircase. "Pack a bag. I want you out of my house.

playing on her lips. "Daddy, don't be so hard on

of blood from the corner of my mouth. My shock and pain were cryst

ach word a chip o

top was wiped, and when I tried to use my debit card online, the transact

, my phone buzzed. A special rington

ma Wi

was a balm on my raw nerves. "My child,"

g uncontrollably, pouring out the whole sordid story-the hotel, the

ce was firm, unwavering. "The Williams house is no longer your home. I wil

l suitcase and packed the few things that mattered: a worn photograph

Vivian watched me go with the detached air

a man who had worked for my grandmother for years, opened

nd didn't

was a passport, a thick wad of cash, and a on

no one knows you. Have the baby. Protect yourself, and prote

s. But this time, they weren't tears of despair. They were tea

tiny, flickering h

ears

ut into the familiar, humid air of my home country. The woman who had fled in shame w

going to see Great-Grandma now?" my daughter, Aria,

pression a perfect miniature of stoicism. He held his o

with my dark hair and eyes. But the sharp line of their jaws,

determined t

ing their hands. "First, we have

his time, I was r