A week after I burned every bridge in that house, I woke up lighter.

Not happier.

Not calmer.

Just… honest.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t pretending, not for my father, not for Maria, not for Chase, and definitely not for Bella.

The world knew the truth now, and the ash of that truth was still settling.

But there was one thing left to do.

One thing I refused to leave hanging.

Mila.

The child I had held, fed, loved, and protected.

The child they used as a pawn.

The child whose life ...