AFTER I LEFT, ALPHA 133

Chapter 133

The phone call had drained the last ounce of Nora's patience.

She had spoken wearily, telling Alex to ask his father. She wasn't available.

That should have been enough, but Alex, as persistent as ever, refused to give up.

"But where are you now?" he pressed. "Can I come find you?"

She sighed, rubbing her temple. He was too young to remember the exact address of her new home.

Even if he did, she didn't want him showing up unannounced.

"No, Alex," she said firmly. "I'm resting, and tomorrow I have to go visit Grandma." Without waiting for

another plea, she ended the call.

The exhaustion clung to her as she returned home. She barely had the energy to change before collapsing onto her bed, sinking into a sleep so deep it felt like she had stopped existing. When she finally woke, it was to the sharp chime of the doorbell.

Dazed, she glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning. Who on earth...?

Then, the intercom buzzed. "Miss Nora, you have a visitor," the property owner informed her.

She moved toward the window and peeked through the blinds. A familiar black car was parked

downstairs. Arnold.

to ignore it, pretend she wasn't home. But before she could move away, her mind-link rang.

home.

twitched. She exhaled sharply before heading

a stop right outside her apartment complex. The car door

to her,

smile as Arnold stepped out, carrying Alex's book bag. His gaze was

it's not your day with the kids," Arnold said as he reached her, his tone careful,

Chapter 133

that slipped out,

expression shifting, Instead of irritation, he said simply, "My father is

Nora stiffened.

Silvermoon. The man who had ruled with a presence so commanding that even after stepping down, his name still carried

he

said nothing at first. Then, without looking at Arnold, she turned to Alex.

oblivious to the quiet tension between them,

her, something caught her eye-a small doll dangling from his book

Her heart clenched.

Abby had gifted her a pair

the larger one,

struck Nora like a slap-sharp, unexpected, and impossible to

Alex's bag, its soft fabric slightly worn from handling. It was unmistakable. If the

given to

afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting warm golden hues over

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