–Livana–
Once Damon leaves, I do what I must. I make sure the fridge is filled with milk for my little Sky, every bottle neatly labeled and stocked. Then I dress well—gracefully, deliberately. It's only been a few weeks since I gave birth, and yet, my body heals as though even pain has learned to obey me.
I slip into the maid's car—the one they use for errands, groceries, and whatever else keeps appearances tidy. My baby is safe, with Laura and my mother-in-law. I tell myself it's only work. But every move, every breath, must remain calculated.
Spies still linger around the mansion. I know they study patterns, routines. So, we follow the same rhythm—drive to the grocery, circle the aisles, fill a cart. I disguise myself as one of the maids, blending into the ordinary. Then, quietly, I return to the parking lot, where another car awaits.
The moment I step in, I wrap my arms around my mother. She kisses my forehead, her touch tender but fleeting, like a ghost returning to warmth.
