Amy Stone
I close the door quietly behind me, letting the soft click echo through the dimly lit room. My eyes drift to Kael, lying still on the bed, his chest rising and falling in calm rhythm.
“I’m sorry I lied,” I whisper under my breath. “But I still need to figure out what Chad is up to.”
The air feels heavy as I walk toward the bed. I slide the robe off my shoulders and sit down slowly, careful not to wake him. His face looks peaceful, yet bruised by everything he’s endured because of me. Guilt twists in my chest, spreading like poison.
“I think I misunderstood my father,” I murmur to myself. “That man is a lunatic.”
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts. When I see the caller ID, my brows knit together. Peter?
Why would he be calling at this hour?
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