Luciana's POV

I paced the living room, my feet moving in a rhythm that matched the frantic race of my pulse. A few slow steps, then a burst of speed—nothing could quiet the storm in my head. The lamps cast a soft, warm glow over the room, but it felt like a mockery. Inside, I was cold. My chest tightened, a heavy weight pressing down on my lungs until every breath felt like a chore.

My son’s words looped in my mind, stubborn and heartbreakingly sincere: He wants to stay with his ...