BRAHAM’S POV
Millie was different.
I'd noticed it the moment she walked out of that prison, past the swarm of reporters, and into the car. There was something in her eyes…something hard and determined that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had always been there, buried under years of hurt and fear, and now it was finally breaking through.
And I could see it even through watching it on my phone since I couldn't go with her. I had to stay with our son, Lionel.
She sat across from me now in the living room, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea she hadn't touched. Leo was upstairs doing his lessons with Renan, who had volunteered to be his private tutor for now. The house was quiet except for the occasional sound of the antique clock ticking.
"You want to talk about it?" I asked.
