Lily Thompson
I stared at the phone in my hand for a long time before I dialed. My palms were sweaty, my chest tight. But this time, I didn’t let fear win.
When my mother picked up, her voice was tired, almost hollow. “Lily?”
“Mom,” I whispered, and then I steadied myself. “I’ve made a decision. I’m going to fight him. I’m going after what’s mine. Not just for me… but for Isabella too.”
There was silence on the other end. Then I heard her shaky breath. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” My voice surprised me—it was stronger than I felt. “I can’t keep running. I won’t let him keep what belongs to us. Not anymore.”
Her silence stretched, and I knew she was trying not to cry. “You’ll need help,” she finally said.
“I know. That’s why I’m calling.”
After I hung up, I sat on the couch, still shaking
