(Caroline's POV)
The night air hits my face like a slap, cold and sharp and real.
I'm shaking so hard I can barely hold Charlie, but I force my legs to keep moving. Away from that house. Away from Samuel. Away from the lies and the cameras and the performance of it all.
Charlie is still crying against my shoulder, his small body trembling with leftover fear and overstimulation. His hands are fisted in my dress, holding on like I might disappear.
"It's okay, baby," I murmur, even though nothing feels okay. "We're leaving. We're going home."
The parking lot stretches before me, a sea of expensive cars gleaming under the streetlights. I'm halfway to where I parked when I see them.
Two figures standing by a familiar sedan.
Aiden. And Aunt Jasmine.
For a moment, I think I'm hallucinatin
