When the snowy mountains of Colorado appeared below us, my heartbeat quickened.

Not from fear—from anticipation.

The helicopter set down on the front lawn of Victoria Vance’s Boulder mansion at exactly 11:47 a.m. Snow whipped around us as the rotors slowed.

The door opened, and I stepped out first, letting the cold mountain air hit my face.

Then came Logan. Then Mason. Then Chloe. Then Lily.

Four little figures in matching holiday clothes. Four living truths Dominic had avoided for almost a decade.

The front door flew open, and several people appeared inside.

I recognized Victoria immediately. Her eyes widened. The wine glass in her hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

Good.

Let them be shocked.