Helen's POV
Morning light crept through Derick's blinds, casting thin golden lines across the rumpled sheets. My body ached in the best and worst ways — a delicious soreness between my thighs mixed with the heavy exhaustion that came from grief and too little sleep. I reached blindly for him, craving the solid warmth of his chest, but my fingers met only cool, empty space. Panic flared sharp and instant in my chest before I heard the shower running.
I sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to my bare breasts. The events of last night rushed back — the hospital, Mom lying motionless, Silas's smug face, and then Derick… the way he'd fucked me like he was trying to erase my pain. I could still feel the ghost of his hands on my hips, the stretch of him deep inside me.
