CANDICE.
“Six years,” I whispered, staring at the endless chain of messages on Claude’s phone. “Six f*****g years.”
Killian shifted beside me. “Candice…”
“Don’t.” My voice cracked as I cut him off. I couldn’t even look at him. “Just… don’t say anything right now.”
I kept scrolling, watching the timestamps stretch back further and further. Maya had been sending updates the entire time. Every safe house. Every new city. Every late-night conversation I’d let my guard down.
“She was in my house,” I said, my throat burning. “She held my babies when they were newborns. She sang to Leo when he wouldn’t stop crying at two in the morning. I trusted her with everything.”
The corridor felt too narrow, the air too thick. No one spoke.
Claude stood a few feet away, silent, his face tight with di
