Moira's POV

The day drags on like a knife slowly twisting in my chest. Cain and Victoria take turns visiting my luxurious prison, each session designed to chip away at my resolve with surgical precision.

Victoria brings photos. Pictures of Connor in a small, windowless room, his face streaked with tears as he clutches the dinosaur toy Logan gave him. Pictures of my mates searching frantically through empty woods, their faces haggard with ...