Dimitri looked from me to Dad, then back again. "She's your daughter?" The former's voice was hushed with disbelief; his accent was so thick that it was almost impossible to understand.

Dad swallowed hard; I saw his throat bob before he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sweetheart—" His voice broke as he raised a hand as if to reach for me.

My head was spinning; if it weren't for Will and Dimitri's hands in mine, I would have sunk back down to the ground. As Dimitri had, Noemi looked from Dad to me, then back again. I inhaled a shuddering breath before speaking, my voice breaking. "'What's to stop me from taking her with me? You've made it clear you don't want anything to do with me, so why shouldn't I? She's my daughter, too!'"

My heart was pounding against my rib cage like it was trying to escape. There was no mistaking to whom the words were directed. Dad flinched as though I'd struck him. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Malia, please. If you'd just let me explain—"

Shaking my head, regretting it a moment later as the world spun in my vision, I held up a trembling hand. Raw, unchecked anger roiled through me like lava, and I was powerless to do anything but weather it. Some dark part of me took significant satisfaction in the way Dad flinched when I opened my mouth. "Explain what, Dad? How you've been lying to me and Mom for months? How could you hide a huge part of your life from your daughter and your wife without any consideration of how we'd feel when we finally found out?"

I was shouting now, each word meeting its mark with painful, heart-wrenching accuracy. The tears streaming down my face flowed in time with my thundering heartbeat. "OR HOW ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU HAD A SECRET LIFE THAT NEITHER ME NOR MOM WAS A PART OF? WERE YOU JUST GOING TO LET ME LIVE IN IGNORANCE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE IF I HADN'T FOUND UNKNOWN PARADISE IN THE ATTIC?"

By that point, everyone around us had stopped to stare. I paid them no heed as I swiped at my face, taking slow, shuddering breaths. Dad was still as a statue, staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. "I—I can't do this right now," I choked out, my whispered voice a broken rasp. "I—I can't." Will wordlessly wrapped an arm around me and tucked me into his side.

For a fleeting moment, I briefly considered taking Will and jumping into another part of the book. But where would we end up? When Dad took a step forward as if to try to touch me, Will shook his head and tightened his grip on my shoulder. After murmuring an apology to Dimitri and Noemi, he pulled me in the opposite direction, not stopping until we stood in front of a bookshop.

I tipped my head back to look up at the name carved into the wood out of which the shop was made. Belle's Bookshop, it read. Right then, I didn't care where we went as long as it was away from Dad. On shaky legs, I walked up to the door and gently pushed it open.

The comforting and familiar smell of ink and paper filled the air, and I heard Will let out a nearly inaudible breath of relief. A woman with hazel eyes and brown hair, tied in a ponytail with a blue ribbon, approached us, a warm smile on her face. Her French accent was as thick as Dimitri's and Noemi's had been. "Bonjour. My name is Belle. Let me know if I can do anything for you."

Will nodded at her before gently leading me over to a seating area that held a couch and multiple comfortable-looking chairs situated across from each other. "Just breathe, Lia. Take slow, deep breaths." I collapsed onto the couch and lowered my head into my hands.

Too many conflicting emotions were swirling around inside me—every time I thought I had a handle on one, another would appear out of nowhere to punch me in the gut. Confusion; rage; betrayal; sadness; shock; they all slammed into me with the force of an anchor, knocking the breath from my lungs.

I dimly registered Belle approaching us before I felt Will gently sit down beside me and touch my shoulder. "Here. Drink this." I didn't realize I'd begun to shiver until I took the mug from him and realized my fingers were trembling. "We can go back after you finish, if you're up for it." Even as he spoke, I knew he didn't mean back to Dimitri and Noemi's. He shrugged out of the jacket he was wearing and slipped it over my shoulders.

My head wouldn't stop spinning, and I knew it wasn't because of the concussion. That physical wound had healed within days of the injury; this wound—and the pain from it—was mental and emotional. It would take weeks (if not months) to recover from this.

Suddenly, all I wanted was to be back in Will's guest room, wrapped in his arms, safe and protected. It didn't matter that nothing (not the strongest steel door, not the sturdiest walls, not the best shatterproof windows) could keep the shock, hurt, and betrayal from seeping into the deepest cracks and crevices inside me.

All I knew—the only thing about which I was absolutely positive—was that I would always have Will, Skye, Liv, and Mrs. Callahan in my corner. Finally taking a sip from the mug still clenched in my hands, I let out a slow breath as my mouth filled with the taste of apples and mulled wine. The warm liquid soothed my sore throat, and I didn't set the mug down until I had drained it down to the dregs. I couldn't feel my hands as Will gently took the mug from my grip and intertwined our fingers.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I snapped the numb fingers of my free hand. I heard Will suck in a sharp breath, but his hand didn't leave mine. When I opened my eyes again, we were back in his room. "Jeez. Your phone's buzzing like crazy." His voice was dangerously calm; the anger had consumed him so thoroughly that he hadn't even registered the jump, nor the nausea and disorientation that usually accompanied it.

I swiped at my eyes with shaking fingers as he picked my phone up. It was only when a soft knock sounded on his bedroom door that he flinched. Mrs. Callahan's muffled voice carried into the room, but I only vaguely registered it. "Will? If you and Malia are hungry, I made some dinner."

Will's voice never lost that dangerously calm quality. "Thanks, Mom. We'll be there in a sec."

My stomach growled, the sound both making me flinch and reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything in a while. Was it already time for dinner?

Will pulled me up from the bed, wrapped an arm around me, and led me to the kitchen. I sat down at the table, but made no move to put anything on my plate. I felt Mrs. Callahan's gaze on me, but kept my own on my plate. "Malia, sweetheart, are you not working tonight?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn't hear the words as I spoke them. My voice was hoarse and worn; I didn't even want to imagine what my expression was. "Um, no. I had a family emergency, so I'm taking some time off." The words weren't a lie, but I didn't dare glance at Will as I said them.

Will scooped some food onto my plate, but didn't say anything. Silent tears dripped down my cheeks and onto my plate. It was only when my phone buzzed again that I remembered to look at it.

Skye's name popped up on the screen as I glanced down. Hey. Haven't seen u at school in a while. Is everything okay?

I scrolled back to read the few unread texts she'd sent while Will and I had been gone.

Matt called and asked where u had been.

I told him u hadn't been feeling well.

He said to tell u not to worry about coming in for a few days.

Get some rest. I'm here if u need to talk.

My hands shook as I typed out a reply, barely able to see past the tears blurring my vision. Hey. I'll be back at school tomorrow. Will update u on everything then.

When I looked up at Will, I didn't even try to disguise the hollowness in my hoarse voice. "After dinner, I'll reach out to Matt and Eliza and let them know what happened. I told Skye I'd be back at school tomorrow and would update her on everything then." Much as I might want to, I couldn't hide in Will's guest room forever. I had to return to some semblance of reality soon, and going back to school seemed like a good starting point.

I couldn't even fathom attempting to mend things with Mom yet; it was all I could do to focus on going back to school tomorrow. Liv looked from Will to me before speaking. "Will, are you going to pick me up from school tomorrow? Mom has to work the night shift."

Will didn't tear his gaze from mine as he responded. His voice had softened marginally, but I could still sense the undertone of anger beneath the softness. "Yeah, Liv. I'll be there before practice."

I knew that both Liv and Mrs. Callahan had picked up on the worry and anger radiating from Will, not to mention the shock, disbelief, and pain that hung over both of us like mist. "You need to eat," Will gently reminded me, and though it felt like a strenuous task, I ate until I had cleaned my plate.

"I'm so tired," I breathed, and I didn't just mean I needed sleep. My voice broke, and as it did, I felt a small piece of my heart break off and shatter, never to be repaired again. The exhaustion was bone-deep; even my soul felt weary.

He laced his fingers through mine, meeting my eyes. His steady gaze grounded me; the warmth in it reminded me that he would never leave me. "I know, Lia," he murmured, his voice low, the words just for me. "You have no idea how much I wish I could take it all away. I'm so, so sorry, my love."

My world had just been turned upside-down. I felt unsteady and off-kilter, like I was one crack away from shattering. But I knew I had no hope of putting myself back together again. Even if I did, I wasn't sure if I'd want to.