“Yeah,” Callum cut in. “But you’re not our mom.”

And just like that, I meant nothing to them.

A week later, I stood on the sidewalk with two suitcases, watching strangers walk through my home, talking about the “nice wooden floors” I’d cleaned myself.

Then my phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

“Check the storage unit on Cedar Street. Locker 108. Dad wanted you to have it.”

I stared at the screen, heart pounding. Alaric never mentioned a storage unit.

And I had no idea who sent the text.