Adam stood at the threshold, heart pounding, fists clenched at his sides.
He had come down only to check if Sofia was awake—drawn by instinct, by need, by the scent of her presence already filling the house.
But instead, he found his mother.
Minirva.
And the words she had spoken hit him like a lash.
"You don't matter to him."
"Don't expect to win his heart."
"It's not yours to keep."
He hadn't moved at first—not because he was unsure—but because he wanted to hear what Sofia would say. And she had stunned him. Again.
Not with rage.
Not with cruelty.
But with strength. With dignity. With everything his mother never gave him and everything he never knew he needed.
As Sofia poured her coffee and turned toward the windows, Adam stepped into the room.
The sound of his voice made everyone freeze.
"You're done here, Mother."
Minirva's head snapped around. "Adam—"
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
The sharpness in his tone was enough.
