Kain Locke
When I heard her voice, my heart stopped.
That voice, soft, lilting, so familiar it carved a wound into my chest. My body moved before my brain caught up, turning toward her like a reflex.
And the moment I saw her, really saw her, my soul ripped open.
She was holding Brian.
My son.
In her arms.
And she didn't even look guilty. Not a flicker of shame. Just that calm, practiced smile I'd seen a hundred times before.
My breath caught in my throat and shattered.
My knees buckled, legs numb. I would've collapsed if the guards weren't holding me. My fingers twitched, itching to claw her face, to peel off the mask she wore so easily. My throat burned from the scream lodged deep inside.
"How…?" My voice cracked like thin glass. "How could you?"
She tilted her head, smiling unchanged. Eyes empty. Cold.
"How could I not?" she replied, like I was the fool for asking. "You were so easy. So desperate to believe. All I had to do was play along."
