Aurora POV:

The cab's heater was broken, blowing nothing but lukewarm air that did nothing to fight the freezing dampness of my clothes.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my torso, digging my fingers into my sides to preserve whatever body heat I had left. The solitary confinement cells back in the facility never had heat. Three years of freezing in the dark had given me a physiological terror of the cold.

Outside the window, the blizzard raged. The old windshield wipers scraped back and forth with a loud, grating screech that set my teeth on edge.

I caught the driver staring at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes swept over my faded, oversized coat, my unwashed hair, and my bare, shivering hands. His expression was full of blatant disgust.

I felt his gaze and slowly lifted my chin, staring right back at him through the mirror. My eyes were completely dead, offering zero apology for my existence.

He swallowed hard, quickly shifting his eyes back to the icy road ahead.

I turned my head, fixing my gaze on the blur of white snow flying past the window.

The glass caught my reflection. My cheeks were hollow, my skin pale and completely devoid of life.

I raised a trembling hand and touched my face. The skin was rough, weathered by harsh prison soap and lack of care.

A sudden image flashed in my mind. Three years ago. Clara, my beautiful, delicate stepsister, collapsing into my parents' arms in the middle of our living room, sobbing hysterically.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memory only grew louder. I could hear my father's booming, furious voice echoing in my skull.

He had stood over me, his face red with rage, demanding I take the fall for the fatal medical error Clara had made at the family's pharmaceutical company. You owe this family, Aurora. You will do this for your sister.

I remembered my mother sitting next to me on the sofa. She had grabbed my hands, her tears spilling over her perfectly powdered cheeks, promising me that the family would compensate me, that they would never abandon me.

I snapped my eyes open, violently shaking my head to shatter the memory.

The cab suddenly slammed on the brakes. My body jerked forward with violent force.

I threw my hands out, bracing them against the back of the driver's seat to stop myself from smashing into the partition.

The driver cursed loudly, slamming his hand against the steering wheel as a massive city snowplow blocked the intersection ahead.

I ignored his yelling and looked at the glowing digital meter on the dashboard. The numbers were climbing rapidly.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the thin envelope of cash the warden had given me upon release. It was barely fifty dollars.

We were still ten miles away from Oyster Bay. The money wasn't going to be enough.

I pulled out my phone, pressing the power button to check the screenshot again and memorize the route.

The screen flashed a blinding white light, flickered twice, and went completely black.

I cursed under my breath and slammed the useless piece of plastic onto the seat beside me.

I took a deep, steadying breath. "Pull over at the next intersection."

The driver didn't argue. He forced the cab to the side of the road, stopping about two miles short of the gated community zone.

I tossed every single crumpled dollar bill I had onto the front seat and pushed the heavy door open.

The wind hit me like a physical blow, dragging the heavy snow in a swirling vortex around my body.

I stepped out. My cheap shoes sank instantly into the snow, the freezing wetness seeping through my socks and biting into my ankles.

I gritted my teeth and took my first step forward, relying purely on the mental map I had burned into my brain from the screenshot.

I walked along the coastline. The massive wrought-iron gates and high-tech security cameras of the neighboring mansions stared down at me like cold, unblinking eyes.

My lungs burned. My toes went completely numb. Every step required a massive act of willpower, but I kept moving.

After thirty minutes of dragging my freezing body through the storm, I finally stopped.

I stood outside a towering, custom-built iron gate. Beyond the bars, a massive, brilliantly lit estate sat at the end of a long driveway.

I gripped the freezing metal bars, staring at the warm, golden light spilling from the floor-to-ceiling windows. My breath plumed in the freezing air, my throat raw and scraping like sandpaper.

"Julian, you better have a perfect explanation."

Aurora POV:

I didn't walk through the main entrance. I backed away from the gate and moved into the tree line, keeping my body low to the ground to avoid the sweep of the security cameras.

Three years of dodging the guards' line of sight during yard time had hardwired my brain to find the blind spots in any perimeter.

I moved along the side of the property until I found a narrow gap where the decorative iron fence met a thick stone wall. I turned sideways, scraping my shoulders against the rough stone, and squeezed through onto the grounds.

I found myself standing in a massive side courtyard. It was filled with dozens of expensive white rose bushes, all blooming perfectly under the protection of heated glass greenhouse domes.

I stared at the delicate petals, perfectly sheltered from the brutal winter storm. My lips twitched into a bitter, self-mocking smirk.

I turned away from the flowers and moved silently across the snow-covered grass, approaching the massive floor-to-ceiling window at the side of the house.

The heavy heating inside the mansion caused a thin layer of condensation to form on the inside of the glass.

I raised my hand. My knuckles were split and bleeding from the cold. I pressed my palm flat against the glass and slowly wiped away a small circle of moisture.

I leaned in, my eyes focusing on the scene inside. My pupils dilated violently.

In the center of a sprawling, luxurious living room, a massive stone fireplace roared with a warm, inviting fire.

Julian was there. He was wearing a soft cashmere sweater. He was laughing, holding a little boy with bright blonde hair on his shoulders. The boy looked to be about two or three years old.

The child let out a loud, clear giggle, grabbing handfuls of Julian's dark hair.

Julian didn't flinch. He didn't yell. Instead, he tilted his head back, his face glowing with a look of absolute, unconditional adoration.

My lungs stopped working. It felt like a massive, invisible hand had just reached into my chest and crushed my heart into dust. Julian had always told me he despised children. He had made me promise we would never have them.

I stumbled backward. My heel snapped a dead branch buried under the snow, but the howling wind masked the sound.

My eyes darted back to the window. A woman walked out from the kitchen area, holding two mugs of hot cocoa. She was wearing a sheer, expensive silk nightgown.

She turned her face toward the firelight. It was Clara. My stepsister.

I clamped my teeth down onto my lower lip, biting so hard that the metallic taste of fresh blood flooded my tongue.

Clara walked up to Julian. She handed him a mug, then naturally and smoothly rose onto her tiptoes.

Julian lowered his head. He pressed his lips against Clara's in a deep, lingering, familiar kiss.

The little boy cheered from Julian's shoulders, clapping his hands. They looked exactly like a modern oil painting of the perfect, flawless American family.

A wave of intense vertigo hit me. My knees buckled, and I slammed my hands onto the stone ledge of the window to stop myself from collapsing into the snow.

My fingernails scraped against the rough stone, making a sickening sound.

I looked down at my hands. They were raw, covered in chilblains, the skin peeling and ugly. Then I looked back through the glass at Clara's hands resting on Julian's chest.

On her left ring finger sat a massive, flawless pink diamond.

It was the exact custom ring Julian had showed me three years ago. The ring he was supposed to propose to me with.

Rage, humiliation, and an agonizing sorrow mixed together into a toxic sludge, pumping through my veins and setting my blood on fire.

I spun around, pressing my back flat against the freezing brick wall of the house, my chest heaving as I gasped for air.

The tears finally broke free. They rolled down my cheeks, but the freezing wind turned them into ice before they even reached my chin.

I slammed both hands over my mouth, pressing hard against my own flesh to trap the pathetic, broken sobs clawing at my throat.

Suddenly, the sharp click of a heavy metal lock echoed over the wind.

The side door, located just ten feet away from my hiding spot, was opening. Heavy footsteps crunched into the fresh snow, walking directly toward the courtyard.

I pressed my hands harder over my mouth, my eyes wide with a frantic, cornered panic.

"Don't get caught, I absolutely cannot let them see me as a pathetic loser right now."

Aurora POV:

I threw my body sideways, diving behind the thick base of a Roman pillar that supported the patio roof. I pulled my knees to my chest, melting entirely into the deep shadows.

My muscles locked into place instantly. It was the exact same physical response I used whenever the prison gangs started a riot in the cellblock.

The side door swung open completely. Julian stepped out into the freezing air. He had a phone pressed to his ear and a deep frown cutting across his forehead.

He pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. The bright orange flame flared in the darkness, illuminating the sharp, ruthless lines of his jaw.

He blew out a cloud of thick smoke and spoke into the phone. His voice was low, laced with heavy irritation.

I held my breath. He was less than ten feet away. Over the howling wind, his deep voice carried clearly to where I sat.

"Richard, you don't need to be so nervous," Julian said.

My stomach dropped. He was talking to my father.

Julian took another drag of his cigar. "The prison confirmed it. She finished her paperwork and was released this morning."

He paused, listening to whatever my father was saying. Then, Julian let out a dark, cruel laugh.

"Leave her alone," Julian said, his tone devoid of any human empathy. "Let her freeze out there for a bit. A little suffering will do her good."

I dug my fingernails so deeply into my palms that the skin broke. Warm blood trickled down my lifelines.

"She is a grateful fool," Julian continued, his voice dripping with absolute arrogance. "All I have to do is show up tomorrow, give her a hug, and she'll be right back to being perfectly obedient."

My father must have voiced a concern, because Julian's expression hardened into a vicious scowl.

"Don't forget, Richard," Julian snapped, his voice dropping to a lethal threat. "If she hadn't taken the fall, Clara would be rotting in a cell right now, and your precious medical company would have gone bankrupt three years ago."

The final nail was driven into my coffin. The pain in my chest vanished, replaced by a terrifying, absolute zero void. My parents hadn't just abandoned me; they had actively plotted my destruction.

Julian tapped his cigar against the railing. "The transfer of the company shares went perfectly. She will never know the truth."

He turned slightly, looking back toward the glass doors where Clara and the boy were playing. "Theo needs a perfect family. I will not let Aurora ruin this."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He stood there in the snow for another minute, taking slow drags of his cigar, looking out over the massive estate like a king surveying his conquered lands.

He finally turned around and reached for the heavy door handle.

Just as the door was about to swing shut, Julian froze. He whipped his head back around, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark courtyard.

He had sensed something. A shift in the air.

I pressed my spine so hard against the freezing stone pillar that my vertebrae bruised. My heart hammered violently against my ribs, so loud I was sure he could hear it.

Julian took a half-step down the stairs, his eyes locking directly onto the shadows surrounding my pillar.

Inside the house, Clara's sweet, high-pitched voice called out his name.

Julian blinked, the tension leaving his shoulders. He shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and stepped back inside.

The heavy door slammed shut. The deadbolt clicked into place.

All the strength drained from my legs. I slid down the rough surface of the pillar and hit the snow-covered ground.

I didn't cry. The time for crying was over. The despair in my eyes burned away, leaving behind a cold, mechanical deadness.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my broken, frozen phone.

By some absolute miracle of failing battery voltage, the screen flickered to life for exactly two seconds. A notification for a delayed text message popped up on the cracked glass.

It was from Julian, sent ten minutes ago.

I stared at the glowing white text illuminating my pale, emotionless face.

"Baby, just finished a cross-border meeting. I couldn't get away. I miss you. I'll pick you up tomorrow."

I stared at the screen, and the corners of my mouth slowly curled upward into a chilling, terrifying smile.