~ Mara ~
I found out from i********:. Not a phone call, not a formal letter from a lawyer, not even a warning from Evan. Just a notification.
Some random, burner account tagged me in a story, and I clicked it before my brain could tell me not to.
It was a picture of Cole’s truck idling outside the house. Not the safe house—my house. An old photo, taken in broad daylight.
The caption read: “Mom of the Year hanging with criminals while custody is pending.”
My stomach dropped so hard I had to catch the edge of the counter to keep from collapsing. I scrolled down, and the comments were an absolute bloodbath.
“She’s giving unstable.”
“That poor kid.”
“Bikers are always such red flags.
Lowkey trashy.”
I stared at the screen, blinking rapidly as if I could make the comments disappear.
