NIKO.
I watched Alex’s back retreat down the hallway, her shoulders slightly hunched and her steps careful as if she were trying not to disturb anything else she hadn’t meant to touch. The urge to go after her was sharp and immediate, almost physical. I took a step forward.
“Niko.”
My mother’s voice cut through me like a blade. I stopped.
She was on her feet now, her posture rigid and her chin lifted in that familiar way that had once meant authority. Now it felt like a wall. “You’re not going after her,” she said, not as a request, but a command.
I exhaled slowly. “Mother, not now.”
“This is exactly when,” she replied, crossing her arms. “I’ve been watching you since I got here, and you are not the man I raised.”
That stung more than I wanted to admit. I turned to face her fully. “
