Lisa’s POV

The ride out of the villa felt… weirdly normal. Like we weren’t three mismatched pieces stitched together by accident and fate. Like we weren’t lugging around secrets, scars, and unspoken promises. Just a man, a woman, and a kid in the backseat of a car.

Ronan drove with that steady, sure-handed way he always did—calm, like nothing outside the glass could touch us. My elbow leaned on the door, chin propped in my hand, watching the city slowly unfurl. New Haven was… confusing. Streets that curved and folded into each other like puzzles, shop signs I didn’t recognize, people dressed in colors and cuts I couldn’t place.

And...