SLOANE
I sat at the kitchen island in Adrian’s condo, a mug of tea cooling untouched in front of me. Sunlight poured in through the tall windows, bright and clean, reflecting off the snow outside. Christmas music played softly from somewhere in the living room. It should have felt calm.
It didn’t.
My mind was in New York.
With Juliet.
With the kids.
With the orphanage.
Are they warm? I wondered. Did the heater hold through the night? Did Mira wake up in pain again? Did Juliet sleep at all?
I hated not knowing. Hated being this far away. Hated feeling useless.
I rubbed my palms against my thighs and took a slow breath. It didn’t help.
Going to New York would fix this, my mind whispered. You could see them. You could protect them.
But I already knew the truth.
I couldn’t go.
Fir
