Christina POV
I found out later that my son had anticipated Scarlett’s refusal to see him.
He’d prepared both paper files and a digital drive: neat timelines, chat logs, travel records, everything arranged so she could examine the proof without having to face him.
What he clearly hadn’t grasped was the simplest truth: when someone has already stopped trusting you, even the strongest evidence just looks like a carefully staged performance.
He’d waited from the night before, through the morning, into the evening, checking his phone as if it might suddenly change its mind.
When nothing came, the restlessness finally drove him to my door.
The moment he stepped inside, I caught the shift in his scent, lighter than it had been days ago, carrying a thin thread of hope that made my wolf l
