The next morning came too quickly.
I woke with the faint feeling of being watched—not in a threatening way—but from the sharp awareness that my past had finally been dragged into daylight. My father’s confession clung to me like dew, cold but cleansing, a reminder of everything I thought I knew… and everything I had gotten so painfully wrong.
Lucian wasn’t in bed.
That alone was enough to make my stomach tighten. He was always there when I woke—solid, warm, reassuring. When he wasn’t, it usually meant something was weighing on him.
I slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway, the soft chatter of the girls in the kitchen guiding me. Arian’s squeaky laughter echoed first, followed by Aria’s serious tone—a tiny general already in charge.
“Daddy, no, the eggs need more salt,” Arianna
