บททั้งหมดของ His regret: Her revenge: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Krista POVLéa said it on a Wednesday without looking up from the table."The sleeve on the K. Monroe piece," she said, tapping the photograph in the lookbook spread. "Explain the decision."The room had six people in it. Léa's assistant, two junior designers whose names I was still learning, a fabric consultant who had been with Maison Veil for eleven years, and Sophia who had come to observe and was sitting in the corner with her legal pad doing an excellent impression of someone who was not watching everything carefully.Everyone looked at me.Three weeks ago I would have shrunk from that many eyes. I would have qualified the answer before I gave it, wrapped it in uncertainty so that whatever judgment came back had something soft to land on.I did not do that."The sleeve is cut on a forty five degree bias against the bodice grain," I said. "The conventional approach would have it following the bodice line. But the conventional approach flattens the shoulder and closes the silhouet

Krista POVThe buzzer rang at seven forty in the morning while I still had a coffee cup in my hand and my coat half on.Sophia and I both looked at the intercom panel on the wall. Then we looked at each other."Expecting anyone?" I said."No," she said.She pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?"A voice I did not recognize said, "Warren Pryce's office, serving court documents for Krista Monroe Hayes."The way he said my name, all three parts of it in sequence, told me everything about who had sent him."One moment," Sophia said. She released the button and looked at me. "Do not come downstairs.""I was not planning to," I said.She went down. I stood in the kitchen and finished my coffee and listened to the sound of the building door opening and closing and the brief exchange of voices in the stairwell below that I could hear but not make out clearly. Two minutes later Sophia came back up with a manila envelope and the expression she wore when she was already composing the call to

Krista POVElena told me to wear something good on Thursday evening.That was all she said. Not where we were going, not who would be there, not what good meant in the specific context of wherever she was taking me. Just: wear something good, be ready at seven, and eat something small beforehand because the restaurant has a late kitchen and she did not want me distracted by hunger.I had learned in the three weeks since her arrival that when Elena gave instructions in that particular tone, the one that was not quite casual and not quite directive but sat precisely between them, the correct response was to follow them and ask questions afterward.I wore the black dress I had bought with Sophia the week before the Maison Veil job started. The one Sophia had picked off the rack and held up with the expression of someone who already knew the answer and was just waiting for me to catch up. It was simple and well-cut and it made me look like someone who had chosen it on purpose, which was t

Krista POVDante Moretti's voice on the phone had the quality of someone who had decided what he wanted to say before he dialed and was not going to be talked out of it by nerves or silence or the fact that the person on the other end had not invited the call.I appreciated that, even as it made me cautious."What exactly are you offering?" I said."Not over the phone," he said. "I would like to meet. Somewhere you feel comfortable. You choose the location, the time, and whether you bring anyone with you. I have no conditions attached to that."I looked at piece twelve on the cutting table. The lower half that had been refusing to cooperate for four days was now resolved, clean and certain, the line doing exactly what I had needed it to do. I had solved it this afternoon in forty minutes because I had spent two hours drawing the same doorway fifteen times and let my hands work through the noise before I asked them to do anything useful."Monday," I said. "Chelsea. There is a coffee pl

Krista POV"What kind of photograph?" I said.Rachel's voice came through the phone with the measured delivery she used when the information she was carrying was significant enough to require careful handling."The nurse's name is Patricia Owens," Rachel said. "She worked the NICU night shift for eleven years at that hospital. She has a photograph taken on a personal phone at two forty seven in the morning on the night of Tyler's birth. She took it because she was frightened and she did not know what else to do and she wanted something that proved what she had seen in case she ever needed to prove it.""What is in the photograph?" I said."Monica Castellano," Rachel said. "Standing at an isolette in the NICU. Holding an infant. At two forty seven in the morning while you were in surgical recovery and the standard verification protocol had not been completed."I put one hand flat on the kitchen window frame."That is not proof of a swap," I said, because I needed to say every piece out