It felt strange seeing him again after all these months. The man who had once kissed my tears away was now the one who had abandoned me to rot.
His eyes were cold.
I hesitated only a second before sliding into the car.
The car stopped in front of the estate. It was home. But it no longer felt like mine.
Isaac stepped out, then glanced back with the same warning he had given me in the car:
“Behave yourself. Don’t embarrass me.”
I followed him inside, my heart pounding. The familiar marble floors stretched beneath me, but the warmth of home was gone.
She was waiting there.
Naomi. My best friend. My betrayer. She was dressed in white like some saintly widow. She rushed forward with fake tears brimming in her eyes.
“Cassandra,” she whispered, reaching for my hand. “I’m so glad you’re finally home. I prayed for you every night.”
I yanked my hand away. My nails dug into my palms to keep from clawing her face.
Isaac frowned sharply. “Enough. Don’t take out your bitterness on Naomi. She’s suffered enough already.”
Suffered? My child was dead. I was thrown in prison. And Naomi was standing here, adored and protected.
From the corner, I heard my brother’s voice.