And I was bringing hell with me.
Then came another call. Jhing Jhing’s kids. Ivy and MJ. Alex had them too.
The silence after the call was louder than the scream I let out.
Now, I stood in the middle of the room again, phone still in my hand, knuckles white, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like my teeth would snap. The laughter—Alec’s laughter—still echoed in my ears. The way he said Leon. The way he mocked me. The way the children cried in the background.
I sank to the floor, forehead against my knees, trying to breathe, but every inhale felt like glass in my lungs. I wasn’t just angry. I wasn’t just terrified. I was violently unraveling.
And all I could see was Maya and Aliya, my girls, terrified… hurt… alone.
And Ivy and MJ. Jhing Jhing’s babies. Sweet, giggly, innocent. They were
