Not ours.
Not Amber.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I could only watch as they rushed Candice’s son into surgery, as Matteo was taken away to save him.
And I stood there, frozen, as my daughter faded away.
That night, while Candice wept tears of joy for her son’s survival, I stood alone in the pouring rain—burying my daughter.
No one stood beside me.
No one held me as I sobbed over the tiny coffin lowering into the earth.
I had never felt so betrayed.
Home was no longer home.
The walls felt suffocating. I could still hear the echoes of Amber's laughter, still picture her tiny hands reaching for me, still feel the warmth of her body against mine before it went cold.
Matteo had always been my hero.
The man who had saved me when I was kidnapped. The man who held me through my nightmares, whispering that I was safe, that I would never be left behind again.
I had loved him for five years. And in the end, he chose to kill my daughter.
I sat on the edge of our bed, staring at the empty space beside me. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was the unbearable ache in my chest.
“You’re safe now, Cassandra. I won’t let anything happen to you.”