Two years was enough time for healing. Enough time for forgetting. Or at least pretending to.

But lies don’t rot in peace. They ferment, until they return stronger, louder, and desperate to be heard.

Adrian didn’t sleep the night after the party. I barely closed my eyes. The photo stayed between us on the nightstand, its threat soaking the room like poison gas.

DNA never forgets.

He paced the room, holding Micah’s baby monitor like it was the last line of defense. I sat near the ...