KLAUS’S POV
She didn’t look back.
Not once.
The wind carried the scent of her—vanilla and something faintly coffee, a whisper of the past that clung to her even now. My jaw clenched so tight I could hear the grind of my own teeth, my fingers curling into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. The sharp sting did nothing to dull the ache in my chest as I watched Gina walk away, her fingers laced tightly with Bernard’s small, trusting hand.
My— No. Not mine. At least, that’s what the damn test claimed. But the way she had hesitated before turning, the way her voice had fractured around that single word—like she was holding herself together by sheer will alone—it twisted something deep inside me, something I had buried years ago beneath duty and denial.
It was a mistake.
That’s
