That year, we married, had a child, moved into our first home. Four dreams fulfilled in one year.
I remember that night. Damian, who almost never cried, held me and our baby close and whispered, “Wife, meeting you is the greatest blessing of my life.”
I believed him.
I thought we had survived the storm.
I thought the pain was over.
But happiness doesn’t fade—it shatters.
Isla died under Chiara’s car.
And the man who promised to protect me betrayed her.
Now, they had another child, as if Isla had never existed.
Chiara’s voice cut through my memories.
“Hubby, I think Clara gets released today. Don’t you care at all?”
I froze. I barely breathed. I just watched him.
“She knows her own way home. Why should I care?”
His words hit me harder than any prison wall ever could.
I didn’t realize I was clenching my fists until I felt the sting of blood. My nails had bitten deep into my palms.
They climbed into their car—the three of them. Perfect, flawless. A family that didn’t exist for me anymore.
I stayed frozen, watching the taillights fade, feeling as though I’d been buried alive all over again.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. I tapped Mara’s name. It took a few tries before the call connected.