BRIANNA’S POV
The air in the room was thick with tension. Scar—if that was even his real name—was still strapped tightly to the steel chair. His head was slumped forward like a broken puppet. Sweat poured down his face despite the cold room.
Anthony stepped forward, jaw clenched.
"I have a feeling you're hiding something," he said "We know you're not just some hired thug. So tell me… Where is Brianna’s real father?"
I looked up. That was something I had never even thought of. Was my father still alive?
Scar lifted his head slowly, his breathing shallow. He looked right at Anthony—then at me. I didn’t flinch. Not this time.
"I can’t tell you that information," he said finally, and his voice sent a chill down my spine. There was something in his tone—not fear, not defiance—but a stran
