Danika’s P.O.V.

She slowly walked inside. Written on her face was a look of obviously fake concern.

Her smile, as usual, was just a curve at the tip of her lips—with no ounce of sincerity in it. My body reacted to her presence in a way I could not understand.

I had a lot to ask her, but I didn’t even know where to start. I dazedly looked at her—this woman I had called mother all my life but was never able to get close to.

Why? I wanted to ask, but what difference would it make? Asking her why she had to ruin me in an unimaginable way wouldn’t...