Maya's POV
The hot shower did little to wash away the emotional turmoil I felt. When I stepped into the living room with my hair still damp, Ophelia was arranging plates on the dining table while Damon spoke quietly into his phone.
"How are you holding up?" Ophelia asked, her eyes filled with concern.
I felt tears threatening again. "Honestly? Terrible. I can't believe my own mother would do this to me."
"She's truly wicked, Maya," Ophelia sighed, shaking her head. "Try to dry those tears though. Your handsome detective ordered your favorite Chinese food for lunch."
Warm arms encircled me from behind. Damon's cologne enveloped me as comfortingly as his embrace.
"Did you take your medication, little one?" he asked softly. When I nodded, he continued, "Your mother is heading back home now. But I still think you should file a report against her."
"She's still my mother, Damon..." I whispered. His resigned sigh warmed my neck as he hugged me tighter.
