Aurora’s POV
“What child?”
My voice comes out lower than I expected.
Sebastian takes the photo from my hand and turns it over again, like the words might change if he looks at them long enough. You were both wrong about who the child was. He reads it once more. Then he looks at me.
“I don’t know,” he says.
I laughed once, but there is nothing light about it. “That is getting old.”
“You think I like this any more than you do?”
“I think your family keeps showing up in every part of my mother's life, and I’m the one standing in my apartment holding a picture of her with your father while half my history falls apart.”
That lands.
Good.
He does not argue. He just watches me with that still, sharp way of his that makes silence feel like pressure.
I turn away first.
No point pretendin
