CHAPTER 21: SILK SHEETS, OLD GHOSTS
The table went quiet in a way that felt louder than noise.
Not because anyone said anything. But because suddenly, the clink of cutlery, the steam rising from my plate, all felt like the safest place to hide.
I focused on my food, on lifting my fork, and on chewing slowly.
The phone sat face down beside my plate. It carried more than just a message. It carried echoes of a voice I'd spent years trying to outrun.
I'd felt it the moment it buzzed. Not surprise but Recognition. The kind your body understands before your mind catches up.
I didn't need to turn the screen over to know who it was. But I did anyway.
Just enough to see the preview, enough to let the words cut.
"Mira, I always knew you were careless, but I never thought you would be this foolish. Do you even understand what you walked away from?"
"Marcus is not just a man. He is your future. Your security. You're right." "Or have you decided you don't want what belongs to you?"
