DEBORAH'S POV
The steering wheel felt slippery under my sweaty palms. I gripped it tighter, knuckles white, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of the mess my life had become. The dashboard clock read 3:47 PM. Victoria would be wondering where I'd gone, but I couldn't think about that now. I couldn't think about Charlotte asking why Mommy disappeared again.
I had to think about Elijah's response to my text. Three words that had shattered whatever illusion I'd been holding onto.
Do your worst.
Not an apology. Not fear. Not even anger. Just cold dismissal, like I was nothing more than a mosquito buzzing around his head. Like everything I'd threatened him with was meaningless. Even if he did not know that he was talking to me.
Well, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.
