The Range Rover chirps as I unlock it and slide behind the wheel. I’m pulling out my phone to text Sage that I’m coming home early when I remember that it’s Tuesday. Physical therapy day.
So I change plans, steering toward the clinic instead of the penthouse. The drive takes twenty minutes in traffic, and I spend most of it replaying Eliana’s voice in my head.
Things might be changing for the better.
God, I want that for her. I want her to have good things. Easy things. Things that don’t require her to be strong and resilient and capable every single f*****g second of every single f*****g day.
I want to give her those things, too. As much as she’ll let me.
The clinic parking lot is half-empty when I pull in. Through the windows, I can see Sage working with Bishop. My brother’s face is
