Elodie's POV
The second Liora buckled herself into the backseat, her phone was out.
I watched her in the rearview mirror, her little fingers flying across the screen as she typed out a message. Her face was pinched with worry, the same expression she'd had since Dante walked out of breakfast.
I knew who she was texting. Of course I knew.
A minute later, her phone buzzed with a reply. Liora's face relaxed slightly as she read it, but the worry didn't completely disappear.
She started typing again, faster this time.
I turned my eyes back to the road and said nothing.
What was there to say? That I didn't want my daughter worrying about the woman who was slowly erasing me from my own life? That it hurt to watch her care so much about someone who'd taken everything from me?
She was six.
