Nathan's POV
Getting my mother to release Krysta proves nearly impossible. The moment we step into my office, she drags my mate to the leather sofa, clutching her like she might disappear if she loosens her grip even slightly. My father watches this display with an expression that mingles profound relief with deep sorrow.
"Take a seat, Dad. What you're about to hear won't be easy."
My father and I arrange chairs in a tight circle. Knowing how difficult this story remains for Krysta, I first insist my mother give her breathing room, then pull my mate onto my lap before asking her to begin.
"Start from the beginning, like you did with me," I murmur, securing my arms around her as she settles against my chest. I open our mind link, experiencing her memories alongside her words. Her fingers find mine, gripping tighter as the emotions resurface, her hold becoming almost painful when she reaches the moment Miller murdered Lance.
