Raven’s P.O.V.
I sat in the dim light of my kitchen, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. The house was too quiet. Too damn empty. I’d always thought I’d like having space to myself—no one tripping over my boots, no tiny hands tugging at my shirt, no laughter echoing down the hallway. But now that I had it, I hated every second of it.
Now… the house felt haunted. Not by ghosts, no—by something worse. By memories. By the lingering scent of Jojo’s shampoo in the air, the tiny handprints Lucy had left on the window, the way the walls still held onto their laughter as if trying to remind me of what an i***t I was.
I ran a hand down my face, groaning.
"i***t" didn’t even begin to cover it. I had messed up.
Royally.
Epically.
To the point where they migh
