The morning light felt different. It wasn't the cold, sterile glare of the courtroom or the flickering shadows of the Vanderbilt mansion. It was warm, landing across the bed where I lay watching Liam sleep for a few extra minutes. The rise and fall of his shoulders was a rhythmic, peaceful sight I hadn’t dared to appreciate fully until now. For the first time in years, the silence of the house didn't feel like a trap or a heavy weight waiting to crush me. It felt like peace.
But the peace was temporary. By 10:00 AM, the driveway was already buzzing with the low hum of idling engines. Paige had arranged for a private security detail—two men in discreet suits—to escort us to the hotel ballroom where the press conference was being held. The world was still hungry for a piece of this story, a
