(Almira's POV)
I don’t waste a single second. The moment I hang up, I’m out the door, practically sprinting to my car. The teachers call after me, but I don’t stop. I don’t have time for their apologies or excuses. My children are with him.
With Lysander.
The drive back to our exclusive village feels like a blur. My heart pounds so hard it rattles my ribs, and my fingers clench the steering wheel so tightly they ache.
When I finally pull up in front of his house—his house—I barely register the sleek luxury car parked in the driveway or the fact that his place looks eerily similar to mine. All I see is my children.
Hazel and Asher are in the front yard. Laughing.
My anger stutters for a second because—what? They don’t look scared. They don’t look mistreated. They’re playing. Asher is
