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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY

RICHARD’S POV—THREE WEEKS LATER

Arriving home with the bouquet in one hand and Amelia’s favorite snacks in the other, I hoped today would lift her spirits, even a little. She hadn’t been herself since...well, since the loss. Three weeks, and yet it felt like everything had been hollowed out.

As soon as I opened the door, the tense vibe hit me like a wall. Amelia was sitting there on the couch, pale but trying to keep calm, while her grandmother loomed over her with that steely look. The minute she spotted me, her eyes narrowed like she’d been waiting for this.

“Richard,” she spat, voice low and biting, “this is all on you. You should have done better. Protected her, watched out for her—”

“Enough,” I cut in, barely keeping my voice steady. I didn’t want a scene, not in front of Amelia. But I couldn’t just let this go. “If you’re going to blame someone, find a mirror.”

Her face twisted, anger flaring up, and for a second I thought she’d come closer. “How dare you,” she snapped. “How da
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