Chapter 6

Vivian Sommers's POV

"Yes," I said softly. "But we haven't spoken in a very long time."

Chloe thought about it. "He made you sad."

My heart softened. "You could tell?"

"Yeah," Chloe nodded. "Your smile didn't look real."

I pulled over to the side of the road, turned around, and adjusted her scarf. "Mommy's okay. We're going to have dinner at Maya's house tonight, okay?"

Chloe's eyes lit up instantly. "With strawberry cupcakes?"

"Yes, with strawberry cupcakes."

Dr. Maya Sterling was the therapist I had met at the recovery center. Over time, she became my closest friend.

She was the one who helped me navigate the adoption process after I got out.

Back then, my doctor had suggested I get a pet to help with my anxiety.

But during a volunteer trip to an orphanage, I met Chloe.

She was a tiny, quiet thing, holding a stuffed rabbit that was missing an eye, standing far away from the other kids.

I fixed the rabbit's eye for her. After that, she followed me everywhere, quietly calling me "big sister."

Eventually, she started calling me "Mommy."

I knew that when I first brought Chloe home, it wasn't entirely selfless.

I had lost a child, and I had lost the ability to ever have another.

Chloe was like a tiny nightlight, illuminating the dark, empty corners of my broken heart.

But over the years, I realized she was never a replacement.

Chloe was Chloe.

She was picky about her food, hated waking up early, drew weird pictures of the wind, and would clumsily offer me tissues whenever I woke up from a nightmare.

I would never let Julian Vance near her.

That night, I dropped Chloe off at Maya's place and went back to my workshop alone.

As expected, Julian was waiting by the door.

He looked like he had been drinking, his eyes bloodshot, clutching a dusty wooden box in his hands.

"These are your things from back then," he said, his voice trembling. "I kept them."

I didn't reach for it.

The box probably held old photos, the brooch from my engagement dress, and invitations to a wedding that never happened. Julian believed that if he could just gather the broken pieces, he could glue the past back together.

But the thing that broke wasn't a photo.

It was me.

Julian cracked the lid open.

I saw a glimpse of a pale gold wedding invitation and an old brooch.

It was a butterfly brooch, studded with tiny diamonds, that I had worn for my twentieth birthday.

I used to love it so much. I thought butterflies were beautiful and light, as if they would never have to touch the dirt.

Now, looking at it, I felt absolutely nothing.

"I've kept them all these years," Julian repeated.

I looked at him. "When you were hoarding these trinkets, did you ever stop to think about how I was surviving in that facility?"

Julian's hand froze.

He kept those beautiful things to pretend I was still unbroken.

As long as he didn't look at the real, shattered me, he could pretend we had just had a misunderstanding, that we were just victims of Mila's lies.

Julian began talking rapidly, his words stumbling over each other.

He said the DNA report had shocked my adoptive parents so deeply they collapsed, and he had to take charge of the company to keep things stable.

He said the logistics deal affected thousands of employees' livelihoods, so he couldn't stop it.

He said Mila told him the kidnappers were just trying to scare the Sommers family, and that they wouldn't actually hurt me.

I listened to him, entirely detached.