Arianna
My father’s message stayed on the screen.
DO NOT DO THIS.
For years, those four words would have been enough.
I would have closed the laptop, changed my name again, packed whatever fit into one suitcase, and disappeared before sunrise.
Instead, I stared at the message until something inside me settled.
He was afraid.
Not angry.
Not annoyed.
Afraid.
That realization changed everything.
Mara stood behind my chair, one hand pressed against her mouth while family names continued appearing along the side of the screen. Some I recognized immediately. Others belonged to branches I hadn’t seen since I was a teenager.
Thirty-two active.
Then thirty-eight.
Forty-one.
Easton leaned close enough that his shoulder touched mine.
“You don’t have to say anything you aren’t ready to
