Chapter 66

The letter lay on my kitchen table, taunting me.

I'd been home for an hour, pacing, debating—should I read it or burn it? The envelope had felt like a live coal in my purse the entire drive back. Now, here it was.

Staring at me.

Part of me was morbidly curious. The other part? Couldn't care less. The man who wrote it despised me. What good could come from his dying words?

My fingers twitched toward it, ready to shred the paper, when that damn voice piped up.

Just read it, Sophia. What's the worst that could happen?

I nearly laughed.

Famous last words.

The worst? He could destroy me all over again. Words were weapons—far deadlier than knives. I still carried the scars from my so-called parents' cruelty. Some wounds never healed.

OPEN IT! the voice shrieked.

Before I could chicken out, I unfolded the letter.

[Dear Sophia,

If you're reading this, I didn't survive surgery. Truthfully, I don't expect to. The doctors are wasting their time—I'm already gone. I can see your grandparents beckoning. Maybe it's a dying man's hallucination, but I know hell has a special place for how I treated you.

You were such a bright little girl when Margaret left you with us. We extinguished that light. I'll regret that until my last breath.

I remember when Margaret was alive. How I'd play with you, Isabella, and Nathan in the evenings. You were so innocent then...]

I stopped reading. None of this made sense. If he'd enjoyed my company back then, why the hell had everything changed?

Hands shaking, I continued.

[I don't know what twisted inside me after Margaret died. When she begged us to take you in, something in all of us... broke. This isn't an excuse—nothing could justify our cruelty.

This is my punishment. Karma's a vicious bitch. I'm getting exactly what I deserve.

Before I go, know this: I'm sorry. For all of it. These words will never undo what I did, but they're all I have left. I'm sorry for being a monster. For being the villain in your story.

I won't ask forgiveness—I don't deserve it. Just... be there for Victoria. She'll realize her mistakes, and it will destroy her.

Remember—I loved you. Even if I failed to show it.

Goodbye, my sweet girl.]

I shoved the letter back in my bag, anger boiling in my chest.

Why did this affect me when Victoria's tears hadn't? Maybe because these were his final words. Written as death clawed at him.

I stormed to my bedroom, slamming the door. No. I wouldn't think about them. Wouldn't relive the pain. If I let those memories in, I'd drown.

Weakness wasn't an option. I'd already shattered once—I wouldn't let the darkness take me again.

I collapsed onto the bed, refusing to cry. They didn't deserve my tears.

Exhaustion dragged me under into dreamless sleep.

I woke at eleven.

Shit! I bolted upright, tumbling off the bed. I was supposed to pick Liam up at nine—Ethan had a business flight.

I showered and dressed in record time, nearly breaking my neck racing downstairs—only to freeze.

Ethan and Liam sat at the kitchen island. Ethan—in a full suit—was flipping pancakes. Since when did he cook?

"Mommy! Daddy said let you sleep!" Liam announced through a mouthful of food.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"Making breakfast. Sit." Ethan didn't look up from the stove. "I'll finish these before leaving."

"Aren't you late for your meeting?"

"Fuck the meeting." He said it so casually, as if rescheduling multimillion-dollar deals was nothing. "You needed rest."

This version of Ethan unnerved me. Caring. Domestic. I didn't want to see it—didn't want to reconcile this man with the one who'd shattered me.

I mechanically took toast and eggs, watching him warily.

"When's your next doctor's appointment?" he asked suddenly.

I narrowed my eyes. "Next Friday. Why?"

"No reason." He turned off the stove. "I have to go."

After kissing Liam goodbye, he hesitated. Those storm-gray eyes locked onto mine, conflicted.

I held my breath, praying he'd leave. His proximity suffocated me.

"See you both tonight," he finally said, and I exhaled as he walked away.

Liam waved. "Bring me a present!"

Ethan paused in the doorway, shoulders tense. For a heartbeat, I thought he'd say something more. Then the mask slid back into place—cold, unreadable Ethan. He left without another word.

I stared at the empty doorway. Why was he acting like he cared?

A hollow laugh escaped me. Ethan didn't care. This was all for Liam's benefit. Another performance.

Had to be.

Right?