The restaurant went still. Adam didn't move. Tara's warning replayed in his head like a siren he couldn't shut off.
Is Dawn… trying to replace Ava?
The thought hit him hard. He looked at her again, but the warmth he once felt was now tangled with confusion… and guilt.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice rough. "But I don't feel the same way."
The chair scraped back. Then he walked out. No explanations. No second look.
Dawn just stood there, hollow. The first time she ever fell in love, her heart broke clean, sharp, merciless. She forced a smile for her siblings, called them over, pretended everything was fine, but every step home felt like walking on shattered glass with shattered bones.
* * * * * *
At home, the kids chattered about the evening like nothing had happened, but they kept stealing glances at her.
"You don't look happy," Jason said gently.
"I'm fine. Just tired," she replied, her smile too thin to sell.
"Good night," Leslie murmured, but her eyes said liar.
The moment they were in their rooms, Dawn dropped to the floor and finally let herself break. The sobs came hard, no filter, no pride left.
Her phone buzzed. Alex.
For a second, she almost picked up. She needed someone. Anyone.
But the reminder of last night betrayal, pain burned through her. She flung the phone across the floor. It hit the tiles with a crack.
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, at the Manchester house, Adam burst through the door, face tight, energy storming off him.
"Adam, what's wrong?" Daphne asked, already worried.
"I'm fine," he muttered, brushing past her.
But Daphne wasn't fooled. Something was wrong and whatever it was, it involved Dawn. She pulled out her phone to call her, but all she heard was a dead tone. Switched off.
* * * * * *
Morning came heavy.
Dawn sat on her bed, keys in hand, staring like they were a question she didn't know how to answer. The deal was fulfilled. Adam was "happy" now. And she was… nowhere.
What now? No job. No plan. No Alex. Nothing.
"Good morning, Tinkerbell," Leslie said, snapping her out of it.
Dawn forced a smile. "Morning. How was your night?"
"No breakfast," Jason complained. "You banned us from cooking."
"It still stands," she said, managing a laugh. She made simple toast, hugged them tight, and sent them off.
Then she picked up her broken phone from the floor, sighed, left it behind, and headed to the Manchester house.
* * * * * *
Daphne was setting the table when Dawn arrived. Her smile was warm, but her eyes—sharp.
"Come in, my dear," she said, adding another plate. "Sit."
"I want to ask about Adam," she began carefully, "but first… are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine."
"Define fine."
Dawn swallowed. "Will you be mad at me if I tell you the truth?"
"Try me," Daphne said. "You're my daughter. I'll hold you when you stumble and correct you when you err."
The words cracked something open in Dawn.
"I'm in love with your son," she whispered. "I know it's foolish. I'm sorry."
"It's not foolish," Daphne said, voice soft but steady. "You can't order the heart around. And… I'm happy you love him. Did you tell him?"
"Last night." Dawn looked down. "He rejected me."
"Adam rejected you?" Daphne blinked. "That boy has lost his mind."
Dawn let out a tiny laugh—half broken, half relieved.
But Daphne wasn't finished.
"He worries over what to wear before seeing you. He steals my perfume. He practices things to say. Adam, my Adam who hasn't cared about anything in three years." She leaned in. "If that's not love, then tell me what is."
Hope flickered in Dawn's chest. A small, fragile flame—but it was there.
"But what about Ava?" Dawn whispered.
Sadness flickered through Daphne's eyes, but she squeezed Dawn's hand.
"She will be fine one day. But until that day comes, Adam is still alive. He deserves joy. And you" she nodded "you bring it."
Dawn exhaled, the first real breath she'd taken since last night.
"Go talk to him," Daphne urged.
"He needs time," Dawn said softly. "I'll wait."
She gathered the plates despite Daphne's protests, washed up, mentioned Leslie's school issue, promised to handle it, kissed Daphne's cheek, and left with steadier steps.
No matter what happens… I still have her, she thought. I'm not alone.
Upstairs, Adam sat on his bed, fists tight. He'd heard Dawn's voice downstairs. He'd wanted to run... run and beg forgiveness. Confess everything. But fear held him in place.
Ava. I belong to Ava. I have to stay away until these feelings fade.
Except… they weren't fading.
* * * * * *
Later, Dawn walked along New Year Street, lost in her own head. Hope and fear tugged war inside her. Then she spotted Tara in the crowd.
Dawn almost called her name—until she noticed where Tara was headed.
Paige.
Suspicion lit up in her chest. Dawn followed immediately but then lost her.
Tara, hidden in the shadows, watched Dawn leave with a slow smile curling her lips.
Her eyes gleamed.
She wasn't done..