The house is too quiet.

Even the walls seem to hold their breath.

Roman’s scent lingers, faint and familiar, the kind that once made me feel safe. Now it feels like smoke in my lungs. I sit on the couch long after he leaves, still staring at the space where he had been sitting, his hand clenched around nothing as he told me he had chosen them.

Bella.

Mila.

A family that wasn’t supposed to exist.

“I can’t let my child grow up the way I did, Nova,” he had said, voice cracking, eyes ...