Ethan POV

The road to the hospital felt too narrow for the rage tearing through me.

My hands clenched the steering wheel so hard my knuckles burned white, veins bulging as every memory of Claire’s hollow eyes and cracked lips replayed on a vicious loop. My jaw was locked tight, teeth grinding as if holding back a scream—or a confession I’d buried for too long. Sylvester Monroe had crossed a line carved in blood. There was no undoing what he’d done.

Traffic lights blurred past. ...