Chapter 119 Inheritance

• MILLIE’S POV
• The cream-colored envelope sat on the coffee table like a live grenade. We had gathered in the living room—Braham, Callie, Renan, and me—but the air felt tight, suffocating. Upstairs, Leo was asleep, the only innocent thing left in this house.
• My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Every time I looked at my mother’s elegant script, I saw the four-year-old version of myself, oblivious and crying in a hospital chair while the woman I loved most in the world was writing her final goodbye.