Meghan
The car hums beneath me, but it’s distant, almost muted, compared to the deafening roar of my thoughts. My grip on the steering wheel tightens, my fingers aching as though trying to anchor me to something tangible, something real. But nothing feels real—not the smooth leather under my hands, not the cold air slipping in through the cracked window, not even the headlights slicing through the darkness ahead. It’s all a blur, a storm of fury and betrayal spinning wildly in my chest.
Aunt Teresa’s words haunt me, each syllable replaying with merciless precision.
“Your father struck a deal. He’s using Chloe to secure his dream property.”
The sheer audacity of it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through me. My own father—our father—is playing puppet master again, pulling strings t
