Dolly’sPoint of ViewTheinstant I spot her, the world around me vanishes. The babble of othercontestants turns into a faint buzz, the camera flashes and clinking glassesbecome white noise. My body tenses up, my breath stops, as my brain tries tomake sense of the impossible view in front of me.Caroline.Shestands there, alive, breathing radiating a self-assurance that makes my guttwist with discomfort. My nails sink into my palm, my heart races with a blendof disbelief and fury.Sheshould have been dead.Afterthe divorce, I thought she had vanished into thin air consumed by her ownfailure. I pictured her shattered, adrift crushed by the fact that she had losteverything. I assumed she'd be scraping by forgotten by everyone cast asidelike the pitiful woman she'd always been. Because from the very beginning thatis how it should be. She has no place in Knoxx and she has no rights to be!Butinstead—She'shere.And shelooks even more stunning than she did three years ago. I
Caroline’sPoint of View“Liamgot into fight. He started it. Please, come quickly as you can to know moreabout what happen.”I actfast. The call ends, and I snatch my purse and bolt out the door. My heartpounds in my ears. My hands quiver as I clutch the steering wheel pushing thegas pedal too hard.Liamgot into a fight.And hestarted it.Thesewords keep echoing in my head. I can't wrap my mind around it. My Liam—my sweetkind gentle boy—he wouldn't just strike someone without cause. Would he?Anawful thought sneaks into my mind one I want to ignore, but I can't help it.I saw hertoday.Andbecause of that, I thought of him.KnoxxWayne.My guttwists. I grip the steering wheel tighter. For years, I've tried to wipe himfrom my life, from my son's life. But now, he seems to seep back in taintingeverything.Knoxxwas brutal. Heartless. He used his power to dominate, to scare, to get his way.And Liam...No. No.I shake my head trying to push the idea away. Liam is nothing li
Caroline’sPoint of ViewTheteacher and I take our seats in the security office. She starts the footagefrom when the incident began. I wait , my pulse racing as the video plays onthe monitor.And asAdrian described, I witness it all.Liamand the other kid—Ethan—stand in the play zone surrounded by brighttoys. Ethan talks waving his little hands. Liam looks uncomfortable ill atease, but Ethan continues. He moves closer trying to grab Liam's wrist.Then,it unfolds.Ethanmoves in.Liamrecoils, fear evident on his face. Ethan advances, and Liam, terrified, pusheshim away with both hands. Ethan loses his balance almost falling, before theteacher hurries over to step in.I letout a breath clutching my purse tighter.Liam hadspoken .Heshowed no aggression. He displayed no violence. He just felt afraid.A senseof remorse weighs on me.I madea wrong assessment of him.Iallowed my worries to cloud my judgment, and now, my son believes I don't havefaith in him.When Icome ba
Caroline’sPoint of ViewThe carcruises down the quiet road. The engine's soft hum breaks the silence mixingwith occasional distant honks from the city. I peek at the rearview mirror. Myeyes land on Liam in his car seat. His small body rises and falls with eachbreath. His little hands rest close to his chest. His long eyelashes touch hischeeks making him look more peaceful asleep. The earlier stress - the anger,the crying, and the feelings he couldn't express - has faded and the tiredness isthe only remains.Iexhaled sinking deeper into the driver's seat as the day's events weighed onme. My thoughts kept returning to what happened at the kindergarten, but Icouldn't stop thinking about my talk with Lorenzo. The talk I never expectedto have with him.And thefact that he is Ethan's dad is all the surprise I needed today.Nevertheless,I never got to thank him for what he did few months ago. The chance never cameup, and even if it had, I'm not sure I'd have known what to say.
Caroline’sPoint of ViewAs wefinally arrive home, I release a long, slow breath, feeling the weight of theentire day settle heavily onto my shoulders. The exhaustion seeps into mybones, but even as my body longs to relax, my mind refuses to quiet down.There’s still something unfinished, something pressing against my conscience.Liam.Iwasted too much time earlier being upset with him, letting my own frustrationcloud my judgment instead of seeing things from his perspective. I should havebeen there for him, should have comforted him the moment we left thekindergarten, but I had been too caught up in my emotions. Now, the guilt gnawsat me relentlessly. He’s just a child—my child—and I had jumped to conclusionsfar too quickly.Determinedto make up for it, I pour all of my energy into reassuring him, into remindinghim that no matter what, I am on his side. I sit cross-legged on the floorbeside him, letting him pick whatever game he wants. He chooses his favoritepuzzle, the
Adrian'sPoint of ViewWith myassistance, Caroline's bond with her dad is getting better—, but without adoubt. It's a tricky balance one I keep with careful attention, never lettingthem grow too distant but also not allowing them to make up without my input. Iact as the go-between, the rational voice, the stable influence that keeps itall together.And thecoolest thing? They're unaware of it.Carolinebelieves I'm doing this to help her, Liam, and “our” family. In some ways,she's right. But it goes beyond that. I feel a sense of accomplishment knowingtheir relationship would still be broken without me. Their bond would remaincut off by long-standing bitterness and carelessness. I'm not just repairingthings—I have control over them. As long as they both need me, I stay crucialto their lives.Carolinestill has doubts. She's not sure her father deserves another shot, and I getit. After all his actions, all the times he disappointed her, her caution makessense. She remembers
Adrian’sPoint of ViewI keepmy eyes on Caroline noticing every little thing—her fingers tap on her coffeecup's edge, her lips squeeze together as she looks down at the table. Shehasn't touched her drink or looked up since we sat. Her mind wanders far fromhere, from me.I knowwhere it goes.Herdad.Asubject she stays away from. A hurt that never got better just covered up overtime. Their relationship always stood on shaky ground built on weak foundationsof letdowns and unfulfilled hopes. Because that is how her dad make her feel.Andnow, I'm trying to fix it.Notbecause I think she needs her father back in her life. But because I want herto see that without me, she wouldn't even have the choice.I sitback in my chair drumming my fingers on the smooth wood of the café table. Thespace between us feels heavy with things we don't say, but I keep quiet for awhile. I know that the more time she spends thinking the more she'll start todoubt herself.Then,at last, I talk. My
Caroline’sPoint of ViewWearrive at the restaurant with my heart still feeling hesitant and unsure. I amnot sure if I am ready to face him, after all the the she makes me feel I amnot enough and I can’t make it through. I sit acrossfrom my dad, and the silence between us feels heavier than I thought it would.The restaurant is quiet. We hear soft clinks of silverware and hushed talksfrom other tables, but to me, it feels like I can't breathe.Wehaven't eaten together in a long time—maybe too long.Helooks at me with his usual analytical stare, which always gives me the feelingof being assessed rather than just observed. Time hasn't mellowed him. Hispresence continues to command attention when he walks into a room. Yet rightnow, with nobody else around, he seems almost exposed. Almost."Whereis your son? Why haven't you allowed me to meet my grandson?" His tone issteady, but it has a sharpness that tells me this isn't mere interest—it's acharge.I letout a breath and pu
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe hospital halls are quieter than usual this afternoon. Adrian is still asleep when I come back from the nurse’s station, where I asked for his updated chart. He’s stable. Recovering well, they said. But even if they didn’t, I think I would’ve stayed right here anyway. I sink into the chair beside his bed and fold his blanket higher on his chest. His breathing is slow, steady. Peaceful.I don’t know how long I just sit there staring at him. Watching his fingers twitch slightly in his sleep. I’ve memorized every line of his face these past few days, every scar and freckle, every soft crease that forms when he dreams. Sometimes, I wonder what he dreams about. Does he know I’m here?There’s no schedule in my head anymore. No outside world. No thoughts of work, the shop, or anything else. Just this room. Just him.The door clicks open behind me.I don’t need to look to know it’s Knoxx. The air shifts the moment he walks in—thick with that same tension that’s bee
Penelope's Point of ViewI knock on Liam’s door, glancing at the time on my phone. Caroline’s still at the hospital, taking care of Adrian. I offered to drop by the house and help with Liam since I know her hands are full. Plus, I miss the kid. There’s something about Liam’s energy that makes everything feel lighter.The door opens, and the nanny greets me with a smile. “Hi, Ms. Penelope. Liam’s inside drawing. He’s been asking if you’re coming.”My chest warms. “Good. I brought snacks.”I head inside, dropping my bag by the counter before walking into the living room. Liam is sitting cross-legged on the rug, his little hand moving crayons across a piece of paper. He looks up and beams when he sees me.“Penny!” he says, jumping to his feet and running to hug me.I kneel to catch him. “Hey, bud. You missed me?”He nods. “Mama’s busy. Daddy is sick. But I made drawings.”“I can’t wait to see them.”He pulls me by the hand, dragging me to the living room floor. I sit down beside him as h
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx is standing in front of me again. Same expensive suit. Same arrogant posture. Same eyes that once used to undo me with a single look. Not anymore.I don’t flinch when he speaks.“You really won’t even look at me?”I cross my arms, leaning back against the wall of the hospital waiting area. The air smells sterile and cold. But inside, I feel oddly still. Numb, even.“I’m looking at you right now,” I say quietly.“That’s not what I meant,” he replies. He shifts on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Caroline… everything’s out. Everyone knows what Dolly did. She’s going to prison. You don’t have to keep pretending like you’re angry at me.”“I’m not pretending,” I say, still calm. Too calm. “And I’m not angry.”He frowns. “You’re not?”
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe jail reeks of sweat, piss, and something else I can’t name. The kind of scent that clings to your skin long after you leave. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, waiting for them to bring her out. I’m not pacing. I’m not anxious. I’m angry. And the longer I stand here, the more it simmers.She finally walks in—Dolly. Her wrists are cuffed, her hair a tangled mess, lips dry and pale. Her eyes flicker up to mine, hopeful. God. Still hopeful.“Knoxx,” she says, a breathy smile tugging at her lips. “You came.”I sit down across from her, hands clasped, jaw tight. “Don’t act surprised. You knew I would.”She leans forward like this is a reunion. “I didn’t think you’d visit this soon.”“I didn’t come to visit,” I snap. “This isn’t a visit. This is the last time we’ll speak.”Her smile falters, but she covers it quickly. “You’re upset. I get it. The media’s twisting everything—”“Stop talking.”Her mouth shuts.I breathe through my nose, steady, even, but inside
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit across from the detective in the cold, gray-walled interrogation room, the recorder lying on the table between us. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide the flash drive across the smooth surface. I’ve played this moment in my head all night—how I’d hand over the truth, how I’d finally clear my name.“This is it,” I say, voice low but steady. “Everything she confessed. It’s all there.”Detective Ramirez picks up the drive, giving me a long, assessing look. “You’re sure she wasn’t coerced? No threats?”I meet his gaze. “She talked on her own. I just listened.”He nods slowly, motioning for the officer behind the mirror to take it for processing. My stomach tightens as the door clicks shut again. The moment feels heavier than I imagined.“She admitted to the theft of your designs, the drugging incident, and the incident involving the late Mr. Wayne?” he asks.“Yes,” I say. “She confessed to all of it. She also named someone else. A man. I don’t know his fu
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe door clicks open, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.The surgeon steps inside, still wearing his scrubs. His gloves are off, and his face is tight, but it’s not the kind of tight that screams bad news. It’s calm. Measured.I shoot to my feet.“Is he—?” I choke on the rest of the sentence. My legs feel shaky. I grip the back of the plastic chair for balance.“He’s alive,” the doctor says.I drop into the chair.Alive.My vision blurs, and I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste salt. I cover my mouth, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Alive.“He lost a lot of blood,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical, but kind. “The stab wound punctured a lung, but we were able to stop the bleeding. He’s stable now. He’ll need rest. Weeks of it. But he’s going to recover.”I nod furiously, even though I can barely hear him over the pounding in my chest.“Can I see him?”He nods. “We’ll move him to recovery in a few minutes. He’s still unconscious, but
Caroline’s Point of ViewKnoxx is standing in front of me again. Same expensive suit. Same arrogant posture. Same eyes that once used to undo me with a single look. Not anymore.I don’t flinch when he speaks.“You really won’t even look at me?”I cross my arms, leaning back against the wall of the hospital waiting area. The air smells sterile and cold. But inside, I feel oddly still. Numb, even.“I’m looking at you right now,” I say quietly.“That’s not what I meant,” he replies. He shifts on his feet like he’s uncomfortable. “Caroline… everything’s out. Everyone knows what Dolly did. She’s going to prison. You don’t have to keep pretending like you’re angry at me.”“I’m not pretending,” I say, still calm. Too calm. “And I’m not angry.”He frowns. “You’re not?”
Knoxx’s Point of ViewThe jail reeks of sweat, piss, and something else I can’t name. The kind of scent that clings to your skin long after you leave. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, waiting for them to bring her out. I’m not pacing. I’m not anxious. I’m angry. And the longer I stand here, the more it simmers.She finally walks in—Dolly. Her wrists are cuffed, her hair a tangled mess, lips dry and pale. Her eyes flicker up to mine, hopeful. God. Still hopeful.“Knoxx,” she says, a breathy smile tugging at her lips. “You came.”I sit down across from her, hands clasped, jaw tight. “Don’t act surprised. You knew I would.”She leans forward like this is a reunion. “I didn’t think you’d visit this soon.”“I didn’t come to visit,” I snap. “This isn’t a visit. This is the last time we’ll speak.&rd
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit across from the detective in the cold, gray-walled interrogation room, the recorder lying on the table between us. My fingers tremble slightly as I slide the flash drive across the smooth surface. I’ve played this moment in my head all night—how I’d hand over the truth, how I’d finally clear my name.“This is it,” I say, voice low but steady. “Everything she confessed. It’s all there.”Detective Ramirez picks up the drive, giving me a long, assessing look. “You’re sure she wasn’t coerced? No threats?”I meet his gaze. “She talked on her own. I just listened.”He nods slowly, motioning for the officer behind the mirror to take it for processing. My stomach tightens as the door clicks shut again. The moment feels heavier than I imagined.“She admitted to the theft of your designs, the drugging incident, and the incident involving the late Mr. Wayne?” he asks.“Yes,” I say. “She confessed to all of it. She also named someone else. A man. I don’t know his fu