Luna’s hands trembled as she clutched the piece of paper, the ink slightly smudged from her sweat-damp fingers. Her eyes remained fixed on the address scrawled in elegant cursive.
Mercy General Medical Center.
Her breath hitched. Her pulse roared in her ears.
Her mother was there.
Alive.
After years of mourning, after two decades of questions buried beneath grief and lies—Elise Winters was not dead. She’d been alive all this time. In a coma. Hidden. Protected? Or imprisoned?
Luna couldn’t decide what was worse.
Grayson watched her carefully in the back seat of the car, his hand gently resting over hers.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked softly, his voice more of a caress than a question.
Luna nodded, though her stomach twisted with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But
