Chapter 90

LIAM

“Before you start,” Emilia says, twirling her fingers together, “just know I’m a fan, okay? So if you’re gonna burst my bubble—do it slowly.”

I huff a laugh. “You can still be one after. Everyone sees a different Jessica than I do anyway.”

She nods, encouraging, so I go on.

“You remember what I told you? About how growing up rich just made Julie and me outcasts? Our parents thought having more kids would fix that—like throwing children at loneliness was a cure.”

Emilia’s quiet. Listening.

“By twelve, I could work a stove, change diapers, burp a baby, pick the kids up from school, help with homework—basically everything but file taxes,” I say, my mouth flattening into something bitter. “My mum didn’t believe in help. Eight kids, and she still thought she had something to prove. She wanted to be the perfect housewife, but she sucked at the house part. And the wife part.”

Emilia reaches over and lowers the radio volume, eyes still on me. “