My fingers trembled as I typed my reply. Then do this for me, Joseph. Make everyone believe my daughter is dead. Make them think I’m dead too. I don’t want him anywhere near our lives ever again. Not after this. Not after everything he’s done.
The response came almost immediately. Done. I’ll take care of it. I’ll see you soon, love.
Love.
The word made something twist inside me, but I ignored it. Feelings didn’t matter anymore. Only freedom did. Only Sienna’s safety. I would accept whatever price came with that.
I set the phone aside and grabbed a suitcase from the closet. My movements were fast, mechanical—clothes shoved in without care, shoes tossed on top, jewelry swept from drawers. Each zip of the bag felt like sealing shut a chapter of my life I never wanted to reopen.
Then a voice sliced through the room.
“I’m really sorry about your baby,” Bianca said softly from the doorway, her tone dripping with fake sympathy.
I stiffened, my hands pausing mid‑fold.