I didn’t sleep the night before. Not really. I just laid there in my bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift across it like ghosts that remembered things I wanted to forget. My body felt too hot and too cold all at once. My heart wouldn’t slow down. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kai’s face—not the boy in front of me now, but the man who let me die. The man who let our son die. And yet, my chest still ached when I thought of the way his fingers touched my face. Soft. ...