(Emery’s POV)
The photo on her phone still burned in her hands.
Someone had been watching her. Not just recently — for months. Before Luca. Before the pregnancy. Before the scandal even broke.
And whoever they were?
They weren’t working alone.
She sat on the edge of their bed, shaking, staring at the image of herself framed in a second-story apartment window. The hand on her belly. The soft smile. The moment that was supposed to be safe — stolen.
Luca was pacing again, phone clutched tight, waiting for his father to answer.
Emery stood, walked to the drawer she hadn’t opened in a year. Her mother’s old letters. Saved in a shoebox. Mostly unread — until now.
She flipped through pages until one fell loose from the bottom.
A letter. Folded, sealed. Addressed to her.
The date?
Four
