Eve’s POV
The road to Bexlin stretched endlessly before her, gray and glinting beneath a low sky. The city skyline rose like a bruise on the horizon, familiar, unwelcoming. Eve sat in the back seat of the taxi, hands clasped over her small, trembling belly, feeling the weight of everything she was returning to.
Her pulse throbbed at her throat. Every breath hurt.
She could still remember this city as the place where her dreams had died quietly, behind marble walls, beneath silken sheets, in a house that smelled of wealth and loneliness. Now, she was coming back not as a wife, not even as a woman seeking closure, but as a living ghost returning to clean up the debris of her own disappearance.
The driver hummed softly to the radio, unaware that the woman in the back seat was counting dow
