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I don’t remember falling asleep.
The buzz of my phone dragged me out of the dark hours later. Ethan’s small, bandaged hands rested against my chest. For a moment, I thought everything had been a nightmare.
Then I saw the screen.
Dominic.
My hand shook as I answered.
His voice exploded through the line. “Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you home? Do you think you can just vanish and humiliate me? You think I won’t deal with this?”
I looked down at Ethan—his fragile face, the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, his body swallowed by white sheets.
Without saying a word, I ended the call.
I shut the phone off completely.
The silence afterward was thick—but it felt like rebellion. For the first time, I chose quiet instead of his fury.
By morning, my body ached from the narrow bed. My clothes were stiff with dried sweat and rain. I smelled like fear and antiseptic. Ethan stirred, and I smoothed his hair, forcing a smile.
“Mama will be right back,” I murmured. “I’ll get us clean clothes. Then I’ll come back looking pretty for you.”
I stepped into the hallway.
The world spun instantly.