Lila’s P.O.V.
The first text came at 4:17 a.m. the morning after the bridge.
I woke to the soft buzz on the nightstand, the screen lighting up the dark bedroom like a warning flare. Ethan slept beside me, one arm flung across the pillow, breathing steady and deep. I slipped the phone under the covers so the glow wouldn’t wake him and opened the message.
Unknown number:
I’ve thought about it all night, Lila. You hid my son from me for months. You let another man raise him, name him, claim him. I won’t let that stand. I’m coming for Noah. He deserves to know his real father, and I won’t leave him in a house where he’s only half-wanted. Be ready. I’ll be there soon.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might wake Ethan. I stared at the words until they blurred, then ty
