로그인Adam remembers the exact moment.Not vaguely, not in the blurred way memories tend to blur at the edges when they've been sitting too long. Perfectly. In the way certain things get burned in rather than recorded — like the image was seared directly into the part of him that doesn't forget, that doesn't soften, that holds everything it finds important with both hands until they go numb.It was the third day of freshman orientation training at Ashford.He'd only been back in the country for a week. Four years abroad — London, then Singapore, then two years back in London — had done something to his internal clock that no amount of willpower could override. He was sleeping at four in the morning and awake at noon, running on two hours and something that tasted like exhaustion but hit harder.And then the August heat.Chicago in August is not interested in your problems. The training field radiated it upward from the concrete, pressin
The garden goes completely silent.Allie stares at Liam.He just told Adam that the car was her idea — which is true, technically, she did mention it — but the way he said it, the specific weight he placed behind go thank your aunt, was not about gratitude. It was a message with teeth in it, aimed at Adam, wrapped in a sentence about a car.Adam says thank you in a voice that gives nothing away.And Liam looks at him with that composed, unhurried authority and says: "I don't think I've ever heard you call her aunt. Not once. Does Allie not count as family to you, Xiao Han?"Allie's jaw tightens.She understands now — completely, crystallinely — what Liam is doing.He's using her.He's using her to draw a line around Adam. To remind him of distance, hierarchy, boundary. And the worst part — the part that makes the anger surge up from somewhere below her sternum &m
She doesn't say a word through dinner.Not one word that matters. She eats and smiles and passes dishes and laughs at the right moments — a performance so clean she almost convinces herself. But underneath it, Liam's words in the car are doing what words do when they're sharp enough: repeating. On a loop. Remember who you are. Have some sense of being a wife.He thinks something happened between her and Adam.He thinks — after everything, after all of it — that she is that person.And the worst part is not the accusation. The worst part is that she can feel it working on her — the way guilt she doesn't deserve starts to feel like guilt she does, when the person doing the accusing is someone she trusts with her whole heart.Who she trusted with her whole heart.After dinner she goes outside.Not a decision. Just — her feet take her out the back door into the garden before
She leaves the lilies in the car.She doesn't decide to. She just — doesn't reach for them when she gets out. They stay on the passenger seat, paper-wrapped, white, completely innocent of everything that happened in the twelve inches of air between her and Liam on the drive home.She carries the cake.Hart Manor in the evening is the warmest version of itself — every room lit, the smell of Elizabeth's cooking all the way from the foyer, the particular alive quality the house gets when the whole family is under one roof.The butler takes Liam's coat. Reports that Robert, Elizabeth, and Adam are in the dining room. Liam nods and moves toward the stairs without looking back.Allie follows.She is very good at keeping her face neutral. She has been doing it her whole life — in boardrooms, on film sets, in the Ashford cafeteria when the whole campus was talking about her. She knows how to walk into a room and be present w
In the car, she watches him.She tries to be subtle about it — peripheral vision, quick sidelong glances — but she's watching. Cataloguing. The set of his jaw, the line of his shoulders, the particular quality of silence he's wrapped himself in since the arrivals gate. He's tired, she tells herself. Tokyo is a fourteen-hour round trip. He's been in meetings for a week. Any person would be exhausted.She reaches for something light. Something that won't land wrong."Adam was discharged today," she says. "Elizabeth cooked — actually cooked, not catered. She made lamb and pasta and this incredible—""I know." Flat. Eyes forward. Fingers loose on the wheel.She swallows. "I ordered a cake for him. One of those vanilla chiffon ones from the French place on Meridian — he mentioned once that he doesn't like chocolate, so—""Allie."Something in his voice makes her stop talking."We should pick it up
Liam doesn't go in.He stands in the doorway long enough to see everything — Allie leaning forward with the spoon, Adam's ears flushed, the ease between them that has grown in this hospital room over the past week like something no one planted but can't stop — and then he turns and walks back down the corridor.He doesn't make a sound.Allie goes straight from the hospital to campus.She's barely through the gate when she catches the current running through the student body — that particular electric murmur that means something has happened and word hasn't finished spreading yet.Two girls near the journalism building. She slows."—did you hear? Felicity Montgomery got expelled.""That can't be right. Her dad is basically city government. The principal has been protecting her for years.""I'm telling you it happened. She's gone. Whatever she did — whoever she crossed &m
The set was buzzing with activity under the relentless summer sun. Despite the sweltering heat, the scene they were about to film was set during Christmas, requiring thick winter clothing.Allie tugged at the heavy down jacket, already feeling as if she had been trapped inside an oven. The script d
Liam Hart had already left, leaving the quiet apartment in his wake.Allison Brooks stared at the untouched bowl of noodles on the table, her thoughts spiraling. For a fleeting moment, she had wanted to tell Liam the truth—that she’d be leaving for a few days with Julian Ford. But the words never m
Julian leaned back against the plush armchair, swirling the glass of bourbon in his hand. "You know, Allie, if something’s bothering you, you should just say it. Maybe I can help."Allie exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "You can’t help with this, Julian. No one can."Julian clicked his ton
Julian smirked. "So, you finally remember."But Allie still couldn’t believe it. "Wait… what? That can’t be right."The Julian she remembered wasn’t like this.Back at St. Mary’s Orphanage, the other kids always played together, but there was one boy who never joined in. He’d sit alone in the corne







