A month had passed since the incident.

Autumn had begun to paint the sky in golden hues. Leaves danced across the yard of a quiet villa on the outskirts of town—far from the chaos, far from the trauma still lingering in Evalina’s breath.

Hunter had rented the place just for the three of them—himself, Evalina, and Hope. A rustic-modern house surrounded by towering maple trees, filled with the scent of wood and peace. But the calm outside didn’t always mirror the storm within.

In the pastel-colored nursery, Evalina sat in a rocking chair, cradling Hope in her arms. The baby was asleep, her tiny body peaceful, lips curled into a...