"No matter what it takes, I'm going to bring her back into the Sullivan family. Everyone will know she's a legitimate daughter of the Sullivans—and no one will ever call her a bastard again."

"You want to wreck this wedding, Fern?" His jaw tightened. "Try it."

I knew he meant every word.

The last time he'd issued a threat like that, the man's company had been swallowed whole by the Hensons within a week. The owner himself had his legs shattered, his tongue cut out, and vanished from Seacrest City entirely.

And what had that man done? Made a crude joke about me.

I should have seen this coming.

Kevin had always been a playboy at heart. To him, my father's affair was trivial—barely worth a raised eyebrow. He couldn't begin to fathom the devastation my mother and I had endured.

But knowing that didn't make it hurt any less—this betrayal, delivered point-blank by the man who had once slept beside me.

My palm connected with his face before I could stop myself.

"Get out!"

Kevin let out a low, humorless laugh, working his jaw.

Before he could respond, Christina lunged at me, shoving me with all her strength.

"I've had enough of you! Don't you dare bully Kevin anymore!"

Kevin watched her with an amused glint in his eye. "Well, well. The little bunny has teeth after all."

"You've always protected me, Kevin." Christina's voice trembled with righteous fury. "Now it's my turn to protect you!"

I crashed backward into two massive potted cacti.

Needles pierced my back, my palms, everywhere. Blood dripped onto the tile. The pain was so sharp I couldn't help the hiss that escaped through my teeth.

My father's face twisted with irritation. "A perfectly good breakfast, ruined by your dramatics."

He turned to Kevin, his tone shifting to something warm and ingratiating. "Perfect timing, actually. Have you eaten? Let's go somewhere else."

Kevin didn't even glance my way. His attention remained fixed on Christina's injured hand as he murmured his assent, already guiding her toward the door.

At the threshold, Christina turned back.

Her lips moved silently, forming words meant only for me.

Loser.

I watched the four of them walk away—a perfect little family, their silhouettes warm against the fading light.

A bitter laugh escaped me. Tears slid down my cheeks anyway.

Mom... you see this? The moment you died, your daughter lost her home.

Does it hurt you to watch? Can you come back? Please? I miss you so much...