A House of Cards on My Silence
What remained was only the scar, and the clear-eyed knowledge of exactly how the wound had been made.
Chapter 18 — You Didn’t Care About Their Trauma
“You packed my bags in front of them, Luca,” I said softly, keeping my tone steady.
“You stood on our porch with your mistress, wearing my dead mother’s jewelry, and you told our eight-year-old daughter and our five-year-old son that their mother was a leech who had no place in her own home.
You did that.
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