The choice to leave settled into Brianna like a vow spoken beneath her breath each dawn, quiet but irrevocable. Prince Edward Island became more than a plan. It became deliverance shaped by red cliffs and cold Atlantic wind. St. Peter’s Bay offered the kind of obscurity she needed. A place small enough for silence, gentle enough for healing, far enough that the shadow of a powerful man could not reach her.
A place Jordan Saavedra would never think to search.
She chose a white cottage tucked near the bend of the bay, with low eaves and a porch that faced the water. Two bedrooms. A narrow yard that swallowed the morning sun. A life stripped down to what mattered. A life where Lucas could run and she could breathe without checking over her shoulder.
Leaving London meant prying herself away
