Ella:
I hadn’t even made it to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before I heard Colt’s engine fade down the street. The test still sat on the bathroom sink. Like a weapon. Like a damn prophecy.
The front door creaked again.
Only this time, it wasn’t Colt.
Beckett’s truck roared into the drive like a goddamn warning shot.
My stomach flipped, already raw from a week of nausea, stress, and heartbreak. I froze in the hallway, bracing myself.
Then the front door slammed open so hard it rattled on the hinges.
“ELLA CLAIRE!”
I closed my eyes. Just for a second. Just to breathe.
Then I turned to face the storm.
Beckett stood there, chest heaving, rage carved across his face like stone. His jaw was locked so tight I thought it might shatter. He didn’t look like my brother. He looked li
