Thalia drove through the tall iron gates of the mansion, the tires humming against the smooth driveway until her car rolled to a gentle stop beneath the glowing porch lights.
The same time, two other sleek cars screeched to a halt behind her. George had insisted on the entourage, a quiet team that followed her everywhere since the accident, though she never thought she needed it.
But he had insisted.
“Sweetie, you are my wife. I would never want to take any risks with your safety.” He'd told her when she refused the entourage.
Though she didn’t care about the guards or the quiet shadow of protection. All she cared about at the moment was getting inside, seeing her babies, feeling their little arms wrap around her again.
She texted Rosy ‘Yo, I'm back!’
She went to New York for a bu
