Wasted Tears
Brooklyn stood up slowly, smoothing down her dress with an effortless, unshakeable calm, and she replied smoothly, her voice betraying none of the cold calculation running through her mind, “I understand, Miss Fay.”
Turning on her heel, Brooklyn walked out of the office and into the cool evening air. She unlocked her car and then drove to her husband’s mansion.
When Brooklyn stepped into the living room, her presence was calm despite the frustrating evening, and she found Mr James Senior waiting.
He looked behind Brooklyn, searching for any sign of his grandson, and asked, “How was your first counselling session, my granddaughter-in-law?”
Brooklyn sighed and replied, “Grandpa, Preston didn’t
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