“You’re my father.”
The words didn’t echo.
They detonated.
Sasha trembled on the clinic bed, eyes wide, cheeks wet, chest heaving in sharp, painful bursts.
Her small hand clutched Nora’s sleeve like she was holding on to the only anchor left in the world.
Demetri staggered backward as if the floor had been ripped from under him.
“No,” he whispered.
Then louder.
“No—Sasha—no—no—you don’t—you don’t know what you’re saying—”
His voice cracked so violently Nora felt it like a shockwave.
Sasha didn’t look away.
“I know,” she whispered. “I feel it.”
Demetri’s expression twisted.
A mix of horror.
Grief.
Desperation.
And something Nora had seen only once before—the night she agreed to the contract marriage.
Fear.
Not of Sasha.
Of himself.
Nora stepped toward him, but he flinche
