Mirabelle's POV:
The bathroom mirror was fogged up, beads of water clinging to the surface as I stepped out, wrapping myself in a soft towel.
I sat at the dressing table, absently smoothing lotion onto my arms. My reflection stared back at me—tired eyes, pale skin, and lips pressed into a thin line.
Who is this woman?
A soft chime interrupted my thoughts. My phone lit up on the table, and I froze. A notification.
Reaching for it, I hesitated. The screen displayed Noah’s name and his message: “I’m on my way to the airport. I just saw the news.”
What the hell?
My hand tightened around the phone. Of all times, why now? I wasn’t ready to face him. He can't find out yet—not until I gathered enough evidence to expose him. Not until I am able to make him pay for all the lies, all the dec
