Kyra sat in the back passenger seat of the SUV, her forehead pressed against the icy glass as she watched the snow fall outside. The chill mirrored the heaviness in her heart, her pain compounded by the memory of Ryder’s anguish. Silent tears trailed down her cheeks, the weight of their separation almost unbearable.
Rodrick, seated beside her, let out a deep sigh. “It’s what’s best, Kyra. You’re too young to understand it now, but someday you’ll see this is for your own good.”
Kyra scoffed, her voice sharp with bitterness. “Is that what you told my mother before you killed her?”
Rodrick’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring at her accusation. “Your mother meant a lot to me, you know,” he said, his tone heavy with restrained emotion. “You’re a lot like her—not just in your looks, but in
