KAYLEE
The kitchen was warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint smell of burned herbs that stubbornly lingered in the apartment.
I sat at the table, my fingers wrapped around the mug Rizalina had pushed into my hands. The ceramic was hot, almost burning my palms, but I welcomed the discomfort. It grounded me and helped me focus on something else other than the storm of anger and fear that had been brewing since the park.
To say that the meeting had been a disaster would have been an understatement. Caleb wanted to take my son away from me. He had even picked out a new mother for him. I shook my head, still unable to believe it.
Zeke was only thirteen months old, what sort of selfish lunatic took a child so small away from its mother? Was Caleb that heartless?
