NOAH’S POV

The wind was soft this morning. Still, it carried enough chill to make me shiver slightly as I stood alone before the tombstone, my hand resting over the barely-there swell of my belly. The granite slab was cold and firm, just like the truth etched into it:

Lucas Leister

Big Lu.

I let the name sink in like it hadn’t already been burned into my soul. My throat tightened. This was the first time I’d visited since waking up… since everything.

Call me a bad sister, I ...