(Hailey Miller's POV)
Night settled over the suite like a heavy blanket; the artificial hush inside did nothing to quiet the storm inside me. Caleb slept against my chest, his breathing slow and steady — a small island of calm in the chaos. In the bassinet, Isabella stirred, a tiny, restless motion as if even her dreams were troubled by shadow-ghosts she couldn’t name. The room’s tasteful luxury felt suddenly fragile, a glass urn that only emphasized the rot pressing up against the armored walls.
Every time my eyes found Isabella, a hot, contradictory pain opened in my chest. Leave. The thought cut like a knife, twin to the echo of failing Ethan. And yet the image of Caleb, bundled and hurried, hamstrung by another small weight in flight, hit harder.
Liam had thought this through; by p
