Blamed By The Alpha

I was sixteen when Hurricane Haven ripped my life apart, leaving me an orphan clinging to wreckage. The Harrison family, wealthy and kind, became my harbor. Ethan Harrison, the paramedic who pulled me from the churning water, promised a future. Four years later, under a clear sky, he gave me a compass necklace, saying, "So you always find your way. Our way." Hope bloomed, bright and fierce.

That same night, the hope shattered. Their home, a place of laughter, became a tomb for thirteen bludgeoned souls. The weapon, they said, was Mr. Harrison’s prize statue. And they said I did it—the girl they'd saved, the daughter they'd adopted.