Anna’s POV
It was late at night, and I was alone in my room. I found myself staring at the screen of my phone, my fingers hovering over the keys as I debated what to do. Finally, I typed out a message, carefully choosing each word. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I hope we can put it behind us and be friends." I hit send, and then sat back, waiting for his reply. The minutes ticked by, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake.
The memory of William's face flashed through my mind, and I felt a knot in my stomach. The last time I had seen that expression was when William had found out that my daughter, Tara, was not his biological child. I shuddered at the memory, and then looked down at my phone as it beeped. The message read, "I'm not angry, but please don't contact me again.
