Mag-log inDana POV: Carmela Giuseppe Meets Jack AgainThe relative calm of the wake is broken by a light touch on my shoulder. I turn to see one of the younger cousins, a girl my mother whispered was struggling with bulimia earlier, looking at me with wide, hesitant eyes."Dana," she whispers. "There’s someone here. She says she’s Jack’s girlfriend. She wants to see you."I frown, my mind racing through a short, dusty list of names. Jack’s girlfriend? Lori? No, that can’t be right. They broke up years ago, and since then, Jack has been a ghost when it comes to his love life. He hasn't brought anyone home in ages.I follow the cousin back toward the entrance of the living room. The crowd is thick, a sea of black clothes and muted murmurs, but I spot her immediately. Standing nervously in a corner, wearing a simple but elegant black dress, is Carmela Giuseppe.I gasp in surprise. I push through the guests and wrap my arms around her. "You came," I breathe, pulling back to look at her. "Wow. Car
Alex POV: Alex Kicks It With Dana's BrothersThe air on the ground floor of the Travis estate is suffocating, a dense mixture of damp wool, floral arrangements, and the heavy, unsaid expectations of a dynasty in mourning. It's been a while since I found myself in such a solemn setting. Though I understand Dana is upset, sad and in mourning, I need to get away from her wounded eyes and the way she looks at me like I’m an intruder.I spot Jack in the corner. He’s leaning against a bookshelf, his fingers dancing nervously over a single unlit cigarette. I didn't know Jack smoked. I remember trying to pick up the habit back in university because the aesthetic of the brooding intellectual appealed to me but the actual sensation of inhaling burning leaves felt fundamentally wrong. I gave it up after a few tries."Jack," I say, stopping a few feet from him.He looks up, and for a second, I think he might actually hit me. He is wound tight, his face a ghostly, alabaster white and his eyes da
Dana POV: Alex Attends The Funeral The grief of the morning is a fog so thick that, for the first time in months, the thought of Alex Logan doesn’t occupy a single corner of my mind. It is a strange, hollow relief, until the black BMW pulls up the narrow cemetery road.Beside me, Charles feels the sudden change. My hand, tucked into the crook of his arm, turns to stone."What is it?" he whispers, leaning down.I say nothing. I can’t as I watch the car door swing open. Alex steps out alone, a dark silhouette against the gray morning. He wears a black trench coat and a hat pulled low, looking less like a businessman and more like a figure from a noir film. He joins the tail end of the procession of well-wishers winding toward the graveside."Did you tell him?" Jack mutters from my other side."No," I whisper. "I don't know how he knows."A traitorous spark of warmth warms it's way inside my chest, fighting against the cold wind. If he is here, after everything, it means he still care
Dana POV: Wuckert Is Curious About The Pocket WatchThe air in our living room is thick with the scent of lilies and floor wax, and the suffocating weight of people murmuring.People have flown in from all over the country to bury my father. Most of them are strangers to me. Uncle Dwight Travis and Aunt Lilian Hobbs are both here. They're the ones I recognize the most out of the lot. They are the last of my father’s siblings, both well into their seventies, looking like weathered versions of the man we’re burying tomorrow. Dwight’s suit is impeccably pressed, but his skin hangs loose on his frame, a reminder that soon, we'll be coming together to bury him too. He signals me over. "So," Dwight says, when I'm sat beside him. "How is the family business, Dana?"I suppress a sigh. I’ve already had this conversation with Eddie. I told him: “no business this week.”Not while the casket is still open. Not while the ground is still cold. But Dwight is seventy, and despite the sharpness in h
Dana POVI think I cried everything out a long time before today. Some unknown, quiet part of me has been bracing for my father's death, holding itself ready, and so when it finally happens there's no flood of tears. All I feel is a hollow, ringing stillness in my soul where grief should be.I'm sitting on a bench at the far end of the corridor, away from the waiting area where my brothers cluster together. Mom had to be sedated. They gave her something and steered her into a bed two hours ago, and I watched her go without following.Derek cried a little, his face crumpling in a sudden, boyish way that reminded me he's still my little brother underneath everything else.I had crumpled to the floor. One moment I was standing, and the next the linoleum was cold under my knees and someone's hands were at my elbows, and then I was up again and walking, and I kept walking until I found this bench, and I've been here since.Jack brought water at some point. I took the bottle and thanked hi
Dana POV: What's The Competition Doing Wrong?"No one is staying back," I snap. "We all go back to New York."Derek shifts his weight, opens his mouth. I know what's coming before he even gets there."The company—""To hell with the company," I snap again, a stiff index finger pointing at his face. “We all leave!” Dad is lying in a hospital bed in New York and we're standing here in this apartment talking about quarterly projections and who's going to hold things together while we're gone, and I can't do it. I cannot stand here and have this conversation."I'll stand in for Derek," Cilian says. He's been quiet up until now, hovering near the window with his hands in his pockets. He says it carefully, like he's offering something fragile.I look at him. "What do you know about running a company? You can't even run your own SpanC properly."The color rises in his face immediately. He clears his throat, clearly flustered and embarrassed. Eddie says, "Come on, Dana. That's harsh.""I k
Alex POV: The DinnerMy heart knocks a little harder as we climb the front steps of my parents’ house in Los Angeles. We’re ten minutes late on account of the traffic on the bridge out of Reagan but they’ll understand.We flew in from D.C. this afternoon just for this dinner and tomorrow morning we
Dana POV: The BanquetI sit at the round table near the back of the Wood and Ward banquet hall, the one tucked just far enough from the spotlight that I can pretend I’m only a guest. The chandeliers throw soft golden across white tablecloths and half-empty wine glasses.It’s night, late enough that
Alex POV: How Long Does It Take To Stop Loving Someone?The taxi continues to get tinier and tinier until it disappears. And I’m standing there, staring, still not sure how it is she is in Washington.After everything, she still gets to walk away like I’m the one who broke us.“Alex!”I turn around
Dana POV: They Meet AgainMy phone is trapped between my ear and shoulder while my fingers trail over the soft fabric of a pale beige dress hanging on the rack, my brother’s voice in my ear."Jack?" I say softly. "You still there?"A sleepy grunt comes through. "Yeah . . . barely. What time is it t







