Aria's POV
The call came at 11:47 PM.
I know the exact time because I'd been watching the clock above the kitchen island, waiting for the kettle to boil, too wired from the day's happiness to sleep. Noah was down. Damien was in the study answering emails. The penthouse was quiet in that particular way it got when the city below finally exhaled, and I'd been standing there in the dark thinking that this — this — was my life now. A real one. A good one.
Then my phone lit up with an unknown number, and some instinct I'd sharpened over years of surviving made me answer before the second ring.
"You forgot about me." The voice was low, measured, and familiar in a way that made my stomach turn cold. "Both of you. The moment you had your happy ending, you forgot I existed."
