The life I hadn’t been invited into.
The holidays we’d spent apart while she was here, probably lighting candles with her daughter.
The birthdays I’d celebrated with a phone call while she blew out candles with Sabine.
An entire branch of family history I hadn’t known existed.
“I’m not angry,” I said finally.
It surprised me to realize it was true.
I was hurt.
Stunned.
But beneath that?—
A strange, fierce protectiveness was rising.
Sabine deserved to know her family.
To know me.
To know she wasn’t a secret mistake tucked into a second life.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Étienne’s face softened.
“She is.”
A quiet beat passed.
Then the bigger question rose up, heavy and unavoidable.
“Did anyone else know?” I asked.
“No,” he said firmly. “Only us.”
Only us.
And now me.
And Kane.
The room felt smaller suddenly.
More fragile.
Because outside this apartment were secrets I hadn’t fully untangled yet. A notebook filled with warnings. A name circled in ink.
Danger.
And here stood a five-year-old girl coloring at a kitchen table.
I felt something settle inside me.
Cold and clear.
