Helena stood frozen for a moment, her gaze moving from Blake to me.

She looked at me with a hatred so pure it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

“You think you’ve won, Emma,” she said, her voice low and venomous.

“You think you can just step into this world and be safe.”

“I don’t want your world, Helena,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

“I just want my children to have their father, without you poisoning their lives.”

Helena let out a cold, sharp laugh.

“We will see how long that lasts,” she said.

She turned and walked out of the room, her high heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor.

Arthur followed her, closing the double doors quietly behind them.

The silence that followed was heavy.

Blake stood by the door for a long time, his forehead resting against the dark wood.

His shoulders slumped, the tension finally leaving his frame, leaving him looking exhausted.

“Are you alright?” I asked, stepping toward him.

He turned around, his eyes red-rimmed.

“I should have done that years ago,” he said, his voice thick.