Riley's POV

The parking garage beneath Brett's building felt like a tomb. I sat in my beat-up Honda, hands shaking as I gripped the steering wheel, the torn contract scattered across my lap.

"Mommy?" Lily's voice drifted from the backseat, thick with sleep. "Are we going home now?"

Home. The word twisted in my chest like a knife.

"Yeah, baby. We're going home." I forced the words past the lump in my throat, knowing we had no home to go to.

I started the engine, the familiar grinding noise ...