The morning it all fell apart, I was not thinking about David at all.I was thinking about spring. About the first pale shoots pushing through the frozen ground in the gardens of Sterling Estate. About the way Maria laughed now, freely and openly, no longer hiding behind a borrowed name. About Marcus, still asleep in the penthouse bedroom, his arm flung across the pillow where my head had been minutes earlier. I had kissed his forehead before slipping out, whispered something about dinner, about maybe taking a weekend away somewhere quiet where no one knew our names.I should have known better. Peace, in my experience, was never anything but the calm before the next storm.Harold was waiting for me in the lobby of Sterling Tower. That alone was unusual. Harold did not wait in lobbies. He orchestrated from behind the scenes, a quiet puppeteer who made the estate run without ever appearing to be running anything. Seeing him standing near the elevators, his f
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