“Well,” she drawled, tilting her head with that sickly sweetness that always made my skin crawl, “you really are impressive, Avery. After everything I’ve done to embarrass you in front of capos, investors, socialites—anyone who matters—you still cling to this place like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
Her smile sharpened.
“Oh. That’s right. Your grandmother passed last month, didn’t she?” She feigned thoughtfulness. “Now that your last piece of family is gone, I suppose it makes sense. You’re desperate. Hanging onto Zachary like he’s your final lifeline.”
Then she laughed—light, cruel, perfectly timed.
“Remember how you begged him to fly you out to see her one last time?” she asked softly. “Do you want to know why he didn’t?”
She lifted her phone, waving it like a blade.
“Because he promised to take me to the coast that day. Sunset. Champagne. That photo everyone saw? That’s when it was taken.”
The words didn’t hit all at once.
They fractured slowly—spreading through me like cracks in glass.
She’d known.