It was all about wanting Fiona Young to have a child for us, so I could graciously accept them and their daughter, and live a complete life of three.
Then we would be secure, no longer wearing tracksuits and carrying canvas bags like this.
The boy I had risked my family for, the boy who had promised me he would endure torture rather than betray me, had ultimately died in this glittering world.
In silence, the taxi arrived, and Fiona ran after it.
She pressed a card into my hand, panicked.
"Nicole, take this first. If you need anything, just let me know. Michael is busy every day..."
The taxi arrived just then, and I shoved the card back, letting it fall to the ground in haste.
The car sped off, belching exhaust fumes. Through the rearview mirror, I saw Michael gently embrace Fiona, comforting her. She stood there, tears in her eyes, leaning on his shoulder, quietly sobbing.
At the villa, Aunt Wendy came over and said Leo Miller wouldn’t be home for dinner, asking what I wanted to eat.
I touched my stomach, suppressing the acid reflux, and requested only a bowl of gourmet soup.