Twenty-eight weeks pregnant, and Liora had never been more isolated.
Leander kept his word—he'd moved to the guest house on the property. He was civil when they crossed paths, asked about doctor's appointments, made sure she was eating properly. But the warmth was gone. The easy intimacy they'd shared was destroyed.
Saskia visited regularly, but even she was running out of comforting words.
"Have you heard from Dashiell?" she asked during one visit.
"No. Nothing since he left." Liora shifted uncomfortably. At seven months, Atlas was getting heavy. "He said it was better this way."
"Is it better?"
"I don't know. Everything hurts either way."
"What are you going to do when the baby comes?"
"I have no idea." Liora rubbed her belly. "Leander says he'll support us financially. Make sure
