Santi agrees, and they inform us they’ll meet us outside. I don’t wait for Judge, but I can feel him watching me as we venture out onto the steps of the manor. It’s strange how this place that was once my home no longer feels that way. I’d been so jealous of Ivy coming here, taking over everything, and pushing me out of the house I grew up in. But as I stand here, silent, my eyes moving over the beautiful architecture, it feels like a chapter of my life I never want to revisit again.

I understand now that home is not just a place but a feeling. And I’m going to make a home for my baby and me. Somewhere safe. Somewhere violence has never touched. And I will do it without the man beside me, no matter how much my heart aches.

It’s funny how time changes one’s perspective. For years, I have waited for the Morenos to be brought to justice. In one horrific night, I lost my father and brother Leandro to the explosion linked back to this family. Santiago barely survived himself, crawling from the flames, his flesh forever marred by the events. I clung to the hope that he would live, begging God and every other deity that might exist to save him as he faced a brutal recovery that most would not be strong enough to endure. And then came the news that our mother died—a result of her grief, no doubt.

What was left behind in the wreckage of those months were a brother and sister who’d had everyone they’d ever loved ripped away. We vowed revenge. We plotted it, and we relished it with a fervency that burned the blood in my veins, twisting and gnarling me into something I didn’t particularly like.

We wanted every Moreno to pay. It didn’t matter the cost. It didn’t matter their involvement. They all needed to suffer as we had. It was the only thing that made sense. At least, that was what I thought until Santiago fell in love, and the truth began to slowly unfurl.