MIRABEL POV.
By the time I got home, my mind was still spinning from everything Vivian had said. I could not stop thinking about the bracelet—the exact replica of mine—the one thing I had from my father. It was impossible. It had to be some kind of trick. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself, doubt lingered.
I barely muttered a greeting as I walked past my mom in the living room and went straight to my room, shutting the door behind me. Dropping my bags by the dresser, I exhaled heavily and flopped onto my bed, pressing my face into the soft sheets. My body ached—not just from the long day but from everything Vivian had thrown at me.
I heard my door creak open, and I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“You are back,” Damian said with a small smile,
I turned slight
