Serafina
Sleep wouldn’t come.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the tablet Dante had shoved into my hands, the truth flickering back at me over and over. Eva climbing onto his lap. His hands holding her back. The shove. The stumble.
Proof.
But proof didn’t silence the doubt gnawing at me. Proof didn’t erase the photo Dom had sent, or the sting of Dante’s silence before, or the fire in his eyes when he swore I was his whether I wanted it or not.
Amelia had begged me to try and rest. I’d nodded, let her leave. Now the silence pressed down until I thought I’d choke on it.
My phone buzzed.
Rafé: Meet me. Ten minutes. South garden gate. Alone.
My breath caught. Rafé.
It had only been two weeks since I’d last seen him — two weeks since Dante had made it painfully clear Ra
