LOGINThe vibration of my phone against the marble tabletop sounds like a gunshot in the quiet room. I glance down, expecting Nicholas checking in or maybe a notification from my legal team. Instead, the screen displays a number I’d rather throw into a woodchipper. Deckard. I slide the bar across the sc
"Are you blaming Sydney for your mother's death, Owen?" The weight of his question hits me like a bucket of ice water. I freeze, the reality of what I just muttered sinking in. What is wrong with me? How could I even think that, let alone say it out loud? The guilt, heavy and suffocating, slams i
I watch the water drip from the edge of her swimsuit, tracking tiny, mesmerizing paths down her skin as she walks away from the pool. Her words still hang in the heavy air between us, tasting sour in my tongue. I stand there like a total idiot, my feet glued to the warm tiles, watching her retreat
The water is the only thing that doesn’t feel like it’s judging me right now. After Nicholas left, I couldn’t stand the silence of the house, so I headed straight for the pool. I need the physical burn of the laps to drown out the mental noise of everything he said. I dive in, the cold shock of the
I press the pillow over my head, pushing down until the feathers mash against my ears, but Owen’s voice still bleeds through the wood of the door like a persistent leak. "Sydney, please. Just a few bites. I’m leaving it right here." I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s been two days since I left that poli
The wood of the bedroom door is cold against my forehead as I lean into it, my knuckles raw from two days of desperate knocking. It’s been forty-eight hours since I dragged Sydney back here—forty-eight hours since she locked herself in and effectively vanished from the world. She hasn't left the r







