Chapter 36

Ronan’s POV

A soft, hesitant knock sounded at the door, and I felt another pang of tension in my chest. I’d been avoiding Nessa all morning—dreading the flood of questions she would undoubtedly hurl at me. Still, I straightened my broad shoulders and called, “Come in.” The door creaked open, and there she stood.

Nessa wore a simple black dress that fell just below her knees, the fabric plain but neat, like she’d dressed with special care. She clutched her worn teddy bear against her chest, its frayed ear a testament to years of comfort. Her eyes, usually bright, were dull and rimmed with sorrow. She stepped into the room, toes pointed inward as little girls often do, and raised a small hand in greeting—a fist bump. Carefully, I met her gesture, trying to summon a genuine smile. Her own grin, tentative but warm, spread across her face, and I felt my heart lighten for the first time in days.

“Big Ronan,” she said softly, using the nickname she’d given me. “Wil