“Who is Karen Brooks?” she asked.

Mark barely blinked.

“Someone I dated. Irrelevant.”

“Her daughter ended up injured too,” I said.

Something shifted in his face.

Not much.

Just enough.

The fake sadness disappeared.

Something colder took its place.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” he told Sarah. “I gave you stability. I accepted your son. And this is how you repay me? Believing a teenager?”

Sarah took a step back.

Tyler did too.

That small movement—

that instinctive fear—

broke her.

“Get out,” she whispered.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I said get out.”

Mark looked at all of us, jaw tight.

“You’ll regret this. And when you come back begging, I might not forgive you.”

He walked out.

Door slammed.

Sarah collapsed onto the couch, sobbing harder than I’d seen since Daniel’s funeral.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was supposed to protect you.”