Chapter 8

KIRA’S POV

“Is that any way to talk to our Mother? She missed you. You owe it to her to be nice.” I heard someone say. I glanced sideways to see Kayla staring at me, her hands resting on her belly which seemed to have grown slightly since the last time I saw her.

‘So, she's really pregnant’ a voice in my head said. ‘That doesn't mean it's Dylans.’ another thought echoed, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

“She’s not my mother and I don't owe anyone anything,” I said matter-of-factly, walking away from the mother-and-daughter duo. I walked toward the kitchen, drawn by the savory aroma of dinner. Whatever reason they had for joining us tonight felt insignificant compared to the thought of finally eating.

“Kira…”

I knew that voice all too well, but I didn’t turn around. Dylan’s voice still had that familiar silky edge, wrapping around me like a memory I was desperate to forget. I kept my gaze fixed on the jug in front of me, determined to ignore him for the rest of the evening—maybe even