ODETTE'S POINT OF VIEW
The past has a way of following you.
It doesn't knock. It doesn't creep. It breaks in, sits across from you at a rooftop bar, and speaks in a voice you haven't heard in years—low, knowing, and laced with truths you never wanted to face again.
Luke.
I told myself I could handle seeing him again. I told myself I was ready. But when he said our son's name with that look in his eyes, when he said our son, I knew the wall I built around that chapter of my life had started to crack.
And it was only a matter of time before everything spilled out.
After I left Luke that night, I didn't go home.
I drove.
Nowhere in particular.
The city blurred past in smears of amber and violet. I just needed to breathe, to feel the wheel beneath my palms, to remind myself that this body, this life, was real. That Odette Lim existed and Sable... she was just a memory.
But she wasn't. Not really.
Because Sable was born the night Ania died.
