Harrison's eyes pleaded for understanding, his voice laced with hurt. "You gave birth to our child and didn't think to tell me? Is that how much you hate me?"
Piper—now masquerading as Lyra—avoided his gaze, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for an escape. Her fingers drummed a staccato beat on the armrest.
"Ah... it died," she stammered, the words tumbling out hastily.
Harrison's face crumpled, pain etched on his face. "What happened? How..." he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Piper's gaze darted around the room again, her mind racing. She couldn't reveal the truth—that her child, now over five years old, was safely tucked away, unaware of this charade.
"I... uh... complications. I wanted to tell you, but I was scared that you would hate me," she stammered, her voic
