“No!” Dahlia’s voice cut through the room, firm, resolute. Her hands clenched briefly before falling to her lap. “I will not stop. I can’t stop. You don’t understand, son. Malia… she’s like a sister to me. My best friend. The only person I had when I was at my lowest. She even saved my life—risking her own just to keep me alive. If it weren’t for her then, I’d be long gone. When she said she was leaving, she promised she’d always stay in touch, no matter what. And she kept that promise… until suddenly it stopped. Seven years ago.”
Her voice faltered, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She laughed softly through the ache of memory. “The last time she phoned me was the day her daughter turned eighteen. She was so emotional… she even cried, talking about how her daughter was now an ad
