Liam looked toward the window.
Ruiz rushed forward and pulled the blind shut.
My mother stood.
Evelyn whispered something I could not hear.
Then a second message appeared.
I looked down.
Five words.
YOUR FATHER IS STILL ALIVE.
No one breathed.
I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
Nine years of grief rose inside me.
The funeral.
The closed casket.
My mother’s hand shaking in mine.
Liam standing beside the grave.
My father’s office emptied one box at a time.
I looked at my mother.
She had gone completely pale.
“Mom?”
Her lips parted.
But no sound came out.
That frightened me more than the message.
I reached for her.
“Mom.”
She looked at me.
And in her eyes, I saw something I had not expected.
Not shock.
Recognition.
My hand fell away.
“You knew.”
She began to cry.
“Maya—”
“You knew?”
Liam stepped between us.
