Isabella Reed sat alone in her penthouse suite, the city lights of Manhattan sprawling beneath her like a sea of twinkling stars. Her mind was a storm of thoughts, each one more turbulent than the last. She couldn’t shake the image of the boy, his small form disappearing into the throng of people, the birthmark on his wrist burning into her memory like a brand.
Could it really be Liam? After all these years, had she truly laid eyes on her son? Questions gnawed at her insides with the ferocity of a wild animal. The world around her became a blur, the opulence of her surroundings suddenly feeling hollow and cold.
