on a ceiling crack. My father needed a lifeline for his
grip crushing, his eyes blazing. "Who the hell are you marrying?" he snarled, a harsh laugh ripping th
ent my foolish heart soaring, before Chloe' s reappearance instantly turned him cold. He'd discarded my cherished birthday gift, a hand-carved bird with a broken
lker" to appease her. Abused physically, thrown into a sterile hospital room, forced into a procedure he believed would "solve his problem," all under the terrifying lie that I was pregnant
remnants of my strength, my silent tears replaced by a chilling resolve. It wa