The door to the bedroom clicked shut, and I let out a shaky breath, wiping the tears that clung to my cheeks. Theo was sound asleep, but his words still echoed in my mind, each syllable wrapped in pain, each one leaving an imprint I couldn't erase. My son, so broken, so desperate—calling for me, begging for answers I didn't have.
I pulled the robe tight around me, but the thin silk offered little comfort. It had fallen loose, the fabric twisted and crumpled from hours of clinging and comforting.
My white hair clung to my face, my breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and I could feel my heart pounding, like some wild animal trying to claw its way out. I didn't care how I looked—I was more determined than ever to confront Alex. For once, he would have to give me answers.
