“Good,” he whispers.“Now three things you can touch.”
My hand finds the chair.
The coarse fabric of my sweater sleeve.
His warm palm.
“You,” I choke out.
The roaring fades.
My heartbeat steadies, barely.
Cas snatches the phone from Grace, reading the article with a dark glare, jaw flexing.
Penny and Lily sweep Mia out of the room, babbling about a craft project they“forgot to finish,” trying to shield her.
Ethan pulls me against his chest, holding me together with both arms.
And all I can think is…
It’s starting.
Kevin started the war.
Did they pay the newspaper to publish this on Christmas Day? I always knew they didn’t have a heart, but this is more than that, this is meant to hurt me, the mother of his child, their daughter…
As of today, my biological family is dead to me.
I cling to Ethan’s voice like it’s the only solid thing in the room. My breathing finally evens out, but my hands still shake as Grace gently takes her phone back, guilt flooding her eyes.
“I didn’t… I just thought you should know,” she whispers.
Before I can answer, Cas stands abruptly, jaw hard, nostrils flaring like he’s ready to march to the newspaper office and burn it down himself.
“Absolutely not,” he mutters, grabbing the phone from Grace again.“They don’t get to do this. Not today. Not ever.”
Penny places a calming hand on his arm, but her eyes are blazing too. Dex is already pacing, fists clenching and unclenching. Jude looks like he’s doing math, rage plus strategy divided by homicide.
And in the middle of all of it, Ethan kneels beside me like I’m the only one in the room.
“You okay, Summer?” His thumbs wipe under my eyes, even though I didn’t realize I was crying.
I nod, but it’s a lie, and he knows it.
He stands and takes my hand, tugging gently.“Come on.”
“Where?” My voice is barely a sound.
“For air,” he says softly.“And peace.”
The moment we step outside, the cold hits my cheeks, sharp, grounding. Snowflakes drift down lazily, the whole ranch quiet except for the distant wind rustling through the trees. Ethan slips his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him as we walk.
The world feels gentler out here. Quieter. Less cruel.
We make it a few steps before my voice cracks.“They’re painting me like I’m… like I’m some cheating villain.”
Ethan stops walking. Turns to face me fully.“You listen to me, Summer Montgomery.” His hands slide over my cheeks, warm and steady.“People who matter know the truth. And the ones who write garbage like that? They don’t deserve to know you at all.”
