Brielle’s POV
Morning came too fast. The sky outside the motel window turned from charcoal gray to an empty, washed-out blue. But the light didn’t bring peace—it only made the questions louder. I sat up slowly, my back sore from the stiff mattress, my heart heavier than it had been in days. Fiona was still asleep, one arm slung over her forehead, her mouth slightly open, breathing softly. For a moment, I stared at her and tried to remember how things used to be—when I was a girl who thought she had a mother worth finding and a past worth chasing. But everything had shifted. The ground beneath my feet wasn’t solid anymore.
Last night had changed something in me.
I slipped out of bed, quietly pulling on my jeans and hoodie. I didn’t want to wake her. I wasn’t ready to answer the questions
