That earned another small smile from him—amused, pitying. "But isn't she a burden to you? That's what you said, remember?"
His tone was mocking, but the words were hers—the same ones she'd spoken in that glowing diner six years ago.
Sasha's voice broke into a scream. "Amy might not have been born from love, but she's still my daughter! The one I carried, the one I raised, the one who made me feel human again!"
Her chest heaved. "She is my life!"
For the first time, the man's expression flickered—faint surprise, then quiet disappointment.
"It doesn't matter whether you love her or not, milady." He straightened his collar with delicate precision. "You wished for stardom. You were given it. And now, you must make the sacrifice."
He began to fade, his voice echoing as if carried by wind.
"Five days, Miss Rodriguez. Spend them well. Cherish your little burden while you can."
"Wait!" Sasha cried. "Wait—!"
The light shattered.
