Irina’s POV
I didn’t go home last night.
After that horrible fight with Drake, after all the yelling, the accusations, and the silence that came after—I just couldn’t. My feet carried me away on their own, as if my soul instinctively knew I needed distance. I didn’t even know where I was going until I found myself standing in front of Uncle Zion’s house. The porch light was on, casting a soft glow that felt strangely welcoming. My chest ached. I hadn’t even knocked when the door swung open.
Uncle Zion blinked in surprise, his brows knitting slightly. Before he could say a word, Aunt Dianne appeared behind him. Her expression softened immediately, and without asking a single question, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.
“Come eat with us, sweetheart,” she said gently, he
