At eleven fifty, a pebble hit my window.It was our childhood signal. One stone meant he was here, two meant hurt, three meant he wanted to see me. Tonight, he threw only one.I opened the curtain and saw him beside the rosebeds. The man who had kissed Vivian in the club was now looking up at me with something almost pleading in his eyes."Evelyn." His voice was hoarse, as if he had been drinking. "Stop this. Be good. Change the seal. London is good too. I'll take you to the Thames, to the old theaters. If you want Marseille, we can fly there whenever you like."When I went downstairs, I smelled alcohol on him, and a woman's perfume too.He slurred his words, nothing like the untouchable DeLuca heir he liked to be. If only he had lowered his head earlier, told the truth earlier, and treated me like someone who could bleed. Leaving might have been harder.Thankfully, he had not."Little shadow, London really is good. You've never been away from me. You get upset if you don't see me for
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