rive home was silent. The house I had designed to be a s

lessly flipping through channels until I landed on Leah Chen' s news program. The screen sho

The foundation was founded and run by Leah Chen. There were photos of them together at charity galas, their hands clasped, their sm

ption. My pain, my loss, my family' s deaths-they were all jus

back tha

one leaving no room for argum

going a

re sick, Ava. You need help. I've made an appo

e me declared mentally unstable. He would use my grief, my "hallucinati

they spoke of, was real. I had to find her. Shaking, I scribbled a note on a crumpled receipt from my purse: He took my baby. It was a girl. Fin

and expensive art. It was designed to soothe, but it only amplified m

right with you," t

photographs on the wall. Family photos. A smiling man,

n was Le

psychologist Ethan had broug

It was a meticulously constructed cage, an

ice. He was handsome, with kind eyes that didn't reach the rest of

ld me a little about what you've been through. The loss of your child is

g I said would be twisted, used as evidence of my instability. My fear was a physical weight in my throat, choking off my words.

e unwavering. "Perhaps it would help you to understand Ethan

my patient for years. He gave me permission

essed

ting in this very chair. He was in a tranc

as a low murmur. "Tell me about Leah,

lurring. "I love her," he said. "I've alwa

arter prompted.

ted, the handsome features conto

ver got to pay for what I did. She trapped me in a life I never wanted. She took away my chance to atone. Marrying he

nymore. The words echoed in my head, a litany

indictive punishment. The pain in my heart was so immense, so absolute, it felt like m

ing as I threw up, the wrenching sobs tearing from my throat.

Carter watched me, his expression unreadable, a scie