Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 3

The chicken hissed like it was laughing at my life. I sat on the barstool, my chin resting on the back of my hand, staring at the frying pan as if it held the solution to my three–year marriage that was inching toward a cliff.The smell of hot oil drifted up, wrapping our too-expensive penthouse kitchen in a haze far too dramatic for a simple fried chicken dinner.“God, you’re going to burn in a second,” I muttered to a chicken that clearly didn’t care.I lowered the heat. Then sank right back into my thoughts, which felt like an empty fridge: cold, bright, and reflecting everything I didn’t want to deal with.The afternoon tea party was still floating in my mind like a poorly chosen scented candle. It should’ve been sweet, elegant, full of pastel–clad women pretending to like each other.But Sebastian… he’d vanished into the circle of his male friends like I was catering staff, not his wife.He laughed. With his eyes narrowing just a little. With that smile. The smile that once made

MONTE CARLO, MONACO - FIVE YEARS LATERMonte Carlo feels way too quiet for a house this big. The sun is just starting to peek up, its light slamming into the floor-to-ceiling windows that for some reason always make me feel like I live inside an expensive aquarium.The formal dining room with its twelve-seater table, which sits 90% empty most of the time, sounds even louder than usual because of one tiny creature who thinks normal human volume is boring.“I told you I don’t like eggs! Its looking at me like it wants to eat me back!”I stare at the four-year-old girl in the high chair giving the plate a dramatic glare, arms crossed, hair a total disaster, bangs covering half her face like a failed ninja.“Poppy,” I chew my toast, “that’s a boiled egg. Not a Dementor.”“Dementors are bad, Mommy.” She narrows her green eyes (my eyes) and pulls that crinkled-up expression she uses whenever she disapproves of something... which unfortunately... is copy-paste from one person whose name alon