Liam sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the plain envelope on the table as if it might bite him. The paper was bent where his fingers had crushed it last night, the corners smudged from his grip. He should have burned it. Shredded it. Flushed it down the toilet and pretended none of it had ever happened.

But on the dresser, just beside his wallet, lay Sofia’s hospital bracelet—thin plastic, her name written in fading ink. That little band weighed more than iron shackles. It reminded him ...