Hazel's POV
“That handwriting belongs to my mother,” Julian said, staring at the note like it might vanish if he blinked, “and she died believing my father would never come back for anything.”
I sat beside him on the floor of our study, the fireproof box open between us, the signing document that would end Marcus's legal claim resting safely on top of a decade old warning written by a woman who had apparently seen this exact betrayal coming long before either of us ever did.
“She knew,” I said quietly. “She knew he'd try something like this eventually.”
“She knew him better than anyone,” Julian said. “Better than I ever let myself admit, growing up. I spent years thinking her warnings about him were bitterness. I never once considered they might have been accuracy.”
We filed the signi
