Amelia’s POV
The morning sun has climbed higher, but its warmth does little to ease the chill crawling down my spine. I sit at the edge of the couch, Ryan trying to entertain the triplets nearby, their laughter filling the room, oblivious to the storm swirling just beyond the walls. My mind is elsewhere, racing. Peter’s blurry photo, Elsa’s sudden reappearance, her carefully constructed lies, all of it circles in a tight spiral, and I know it’s time to dig deeper. Time to find out if Alex is part of her game or if he is just as blind as everyone else.
I glance at Ryan, trying to gauge his thoughts, but his calm presence, the steady rhythm of his hand on Theo’s shoulder, belies the tension I know he feels. I can’t involve him yet. Not until I have something concrete. Not until I know whet
