Ruby’s POV

When my foster mother finally woke up, the first thing she did was look straight at me and say Austin’s name like it was a curse.

“You are not going to be with him,” she said hoarsely. “Not now. Not ever.”

I felt my chest tighten. I had imagined many versions of this moment, relief, tears, maybe even gratitude that I was there but not this war.

“Mom,” I said softly, forcing calm into my voice. “You just woke up. You need rest.”

Her eyes were sharp, far too sharp ...