PROLOGUE
GABRIEL: 8 years earlier
“¡Wepa!”
I shimmy my hips to the salsa music blaring from the speakers overhead, the rhythm pulsing through the studio as I shuffle around my art table. I’m adding the final touches to a sculpture commissioned by a high-end client. I’m an interior designer by trade, but every now and then, I take on a piece like this, when the price is right and the creative itch is too strong to ignore.
Humming along to the voice of the great Héctor Lavoe, I step back to admire the finished work. Indecent and dirty—exactly what they asked for.
Nailed it.
Satisfied, I wipe my clay-stained hands on my pants and reach over to kill the music.
Silence.
It hits—sharp and immediate.
Most people think of silence as a relief. Peaceful. Calming. A break from the noise of the day or the chaos in their heads. But for me? Silence doesn’t soothe. It screams.
Shouting every fucking thing I want to forget.
It’s not peace… it’s punishment.
And it’s a sound I never want to sit alone with again.
I reach for my phone, thumbs flying as I text my husband to let him know I’ll be home soon. Elijah replies almost instantly with a heart emoji and a selfie of him and our daughter. It’s the perfect picture—mi familia.
I smile, small but real, as I turn on the faucet and begin scrubbing my hands. Thankfully, the spray of water overtakes the silence.
And so does a voice.
“Hello, Gabriel.”
My head snaps up. My spine locks in place.
I know that voice.
It’s a voice I wasn’t prepared to hear again.
It’s an unwelcome voice.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, keeping my back to her. It’s easier that way—hiding the shock still settling across my face like a second skin.
I’ve changed my mind.
I prefer the silence.
“I saw you and Elijah at the park yesterday—with your daughter,” she says, voice like silk-wrapped razor blades. “Quite the happy family… wouldn’t you say?”
I grit my teeth. “What do you want, Mimi?”
She laughs—a low, knowing snicker, sending shockwaves straight through my heart. I hate that it still gets to me. Still hooks something in me I thought I buried years ago.
“Oh, Gabriel,” she purrs. “You knowexactlywhat I want.”
Unfortunately, I do. And I want to pull every strand of hair out of my head for ever letting her get so close.
You were weak. Don’t be weak now.
