Page 47 of Say You're Mine

As I lay in bed trying to will my blood pressure down through sheer force of will, Dante enters with a grim expression.

"What is it?" I ask, sitting up too quickly and wincing at the resulting head rush. "Is it June? Is he-"

"June's fine," Dante assures me quickly. "As far as we know, his recovery is progressing. But Cara... we've received some troubling information."

My heart races, the monitor beside me beeping in protest. "Tell me."

Dante sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Elaine's made a move. She's filed for emergency custody of your child, claiming you're an unfit mother due to 'mental instability' and 'association with known criminals'."

The room spins, bile rising in my throat. "She can't- That's insane! She has no right-"

"Shh, easy," Dante soothes, his hand on my arm. "We're fighting it, Cara. Every lawyer in my arsenal is working on this. She won't win."

But the damage is done. The thought of Elaine, that monster, trying to take my baby... it's too much. I barely make it to the bathroom before I'm violently ill, heaving until there's nothing left but bitter bile and broken sobs.

Natalie finds me there, curled on the cold tile. Without a word, she sits beside me, pulling me into her arms.

"I can't do this anymore, Nat," I whisper, my voice raw. "I can't just sit here and wait while Elaine tries to destroy everything. I need to see June. I need to know he's okay."

Natalie strokes my hair, her voice gentle but firm. "I know, honey. I know it's killing you. But we have to be smart about this. June needs time to heal, to shake off Faulkner's conditioning. And you need to focus on keeping yourself and this baby healthy."

"But what if-"

"No what-ifs," she cuts me off. "June is fighting to come back to you. And we're all fighting to keep you safe. You just focus on growing that beautiful baby."

I nod, too exhausted to argue further. But as Natalie helps me back to bed, as the endless waiting stretches before me like a yawning chasm, I make a silent vow.

No more passive waiting. No more letting others fight my battles.

Elaine wants a war?

Fine. Let her come.

Chapter fifteen

June

The world comes back in fragments, each shard of reality piercing through the haze of sedatives and pain like shrapnel. I blink, harsh light searing my retinas. For a moment, panic claws at my throat – am I still in Faulkner's hell? But no, the air here is different. Cleaner. The restraints that once bit into my flesh are gone.

I try to sit up, but my body betrays me. Every muscle screams in protest, and a wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm me. A cool hand presses against my forehead, and I flinch away instinctively.

"Easy, little brother," a familiar voice murmurs. "You're safe now."

Judith. My sister. The one constant in a life defined by chaos and cruelty. I force my eyes open, trying to focus on her face. She looks older, more worn than I remember. The price of saving me, no doubt.

Memories rush back, disjointed and hazy. The daring escape, the desperate flight through sterile corridors. And then, in the final moments, a figure in black, face obscured, voice distorted.

"Juniper Deveaux, you're a hard man to find..."

The uncertainty was almost too much for my already fleeting sanity. But then the mask came off, and it was Judith's face beneath. Judith, fierce and determined, eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I've got you," she had whispered, catching me as my knees buckled. "I've got you, little brother."

Everything after that is a blur, lost to the merciful oblivion of exhaustion and drugs. But now, as awareness returns in fits and starts, a single thought crystallizes in the fog of my mind.

"Cara," I rasp, my voice a broken thing. "The baby. Are they-"

"They're safe," Judith assures me, her fingers combing gently through my hair. "Both of them. But June, you need to focus on getting better. You've been through hell."

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