Louise's POV
My fingers quivered as I brought the chilled glass of water to my lips, struggling to suppress the sobs threatening to rise. Across the room, Phyllis stood in the kitchen, casually preparing my favorite dish. He smiled, completely unfazed, as though nothing significant had happened—as if he hadn’t just torn my world apart moments before with a painful truth I never wanted to hear.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you for five years, Louise,” he murmured, calling me by the nickname only he ever used.
He carefully placed the grilled beef on a plate, dusting it with spices and nestling a perfectly done sunny-side-up egg beside it. “You should eat more. You’ve grown so thin.”
I kept my gaze fixed on the plate, my fingers tightening around the glass like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. Inside me, my wolf stirred with fury, urging me to lash out, to scream, to demand the truth. But I didn’t give in. I just swallowed the sob building in my throat.
The scene I had witnessed earlier haunted me. The words I’d overheard—each one soaked in betrayal—did more than hurt. They wrecked me completely.
In that instant, I would have chosen death over this unbearable reality.
My hands were still unsteady as I lowered the glass and approached the table. My eyes momentarily locked on the knife. A sharp, dark thought crossed my mind—I could stab him, force him to feel just a fraction of the torment he and Charlene had caused me.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I picked up the fork, cutting into the beef with trembling hands as hot tears finally escaped, sliding down my face without restraint.
Phyllis noticed immediately. “Louise, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
He reached out, his warm hands resting gently on my shoulders, lifting my chin until our eyes met. “Did something happen? What’s going on?”
His tenderness, his concern—it made me want to scream until I lost my voice. He brushed away my tears with such care, and it tore me apart inside. I wanted to believe this was a nightmare. A cruel illusion conjured from my years of pain and loneliness.
But this was real.
I had always loved Phyllis. Loved him so deeply, it hurt to even breathe near him.
“I love you,” I said quietly, voice trembling, thick with agony.
He smiled, gentle and affectionate. “That’s all you wanted to tell me? You scared me,” he said with a soft laugh of relief before kissing my forehead, then the tip of my nose. His lips lingered, hovering just over mine, closing the distance—
I moved away.
The image of him kissing my brother’s wife flashed through my mind, turning my stomach.
“I’m just hungry,” I said quickly, lying through my teeth as I forced a bite of food into my mouth. My hands still wouldn’t stop trembling. Prison had broken parts of me I didn’t even know could crack. But throughout all those years, what kept me holding on was the hope that Phyllis cared—that he was still waiting, that the truth would somehow save me.
Now, I wished the darkness of prison had swallowed me whole.
Earlier, I had hidden nearby, listening in horror to their conversation.
“Louise’s in the house. We can’t let her know about us,” Phyllis had whispered to Charlene, brushing her cheek with a familiarity that stabbed me in the gut.
Charlene leaned into him like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there.
“You’re right. It’s best to stay quiet until everything is settled,” she’d replied, voice heavy with guilt. “I miss Chelsea every single day. I wish Louise wasn’t the one responsible—but the evidence says otherwise. I still care for her. She’s like my own sister.”
She had spoken of me as if I had already been condemned. As though there were no doubt left.
“I wish things were different too,” Phyllis had sighed. “They’ve reopened the investigation, and someone’s digging up more evidence. But there are still pieces that don’t align. I just want to help you find Chelsea. I know how much you ache for your daughter. But Louise knows what she did with the body.”
“Yes,” Charlene’s tone had hardened. “She does. And you need to get her to reveal where it is. Chelsea trusted her. If she really loved her, she would come clean.”
“I’ll get the truth, Anna. I promise.”
Those words cut deeper than any prison sentence.
Charlene had never trusted me. None of them had.
Now, Phyllis poured a glass of my favorite berry wine and handed it to me with a smile. “Thanks,” I mumbled, doing everything I could to pretend nothing was wrong.
“I’ll make it up to you, Louise,” he said, noticing my hands still trembled. He gently took the knife and began slicing my beef for me. “I regret not coming to see you. The pack... there were too many obligations.”
“Why are your hands shaking like that?” he asked, concerned, eyes narrowing.
“My time behind bars wasn’t exactly kind,” I answered, my voice flat and hollow as I sipped the wine. “There were nights I wanted to end everything. But thinking of you kept me going. I clung to the thought that one day, the truth would surface.” I met his gaze directly. “That one letter you sent? I must have read it thousands of times. It was the only thing that gave me a reason to live.”
Phyllis froze. His knife stopped midway through the meat. His expression darkened with something unreadable. “What happened to you in there?”
I paused, unsure if I should even answer.
Other inmates had whispered cruel things to me. That someone had paid to ensure my suffering. That Phyllis Brennan—and my own family—wanted to see me broken beyond repair.
I hadn’t wanted to believe them.
But now? I saw how blind I’d been.
Before I could speak, a booming voice shattered the moment.
“What are you doing here?”
My father.
He barged into the kitchen, fury written all over his face. His angry eyes flicked from me to Phyllis, then to the plate of food in front of me.
“And you, Phyllis! Why are you giving her wine and a good meal? She doesn’t deserve anything close to kindness!”
