Aiden’s POV

The room went silent when the sleeve slipped.

Her arm. Her scars. The pale, blurred lines tore through my chest.

For a moment, my lungs forgot how to breathe. My throat closed, my vision tunneled, and all I could see was Rue—standing there, clutching Iris to her chest, her face hard but her eyes clear with hatred.

Those marks… I knew them. I had created them.

The memories came like a storm.

When Iris was still a baby, burning with fever, Rue had begged me to stay, begged me to ...