na

o still, barely moved. "What did you see, Dayna?" he as

y feverish mind, already reeling, began to doubt itself. Had I imagined it? The kiss in t

irt. Tucked into the collar, a faint smudge o

me with centrifugal force. It wasn't

rooks. I must have been dreaming. The fever, you know.

rld of words and stories. "Good," he said, his voice softening slightly. "I'm glad. Now, about the painting. I'm sorry about Ava's wor

aking my sister's work? Not for the blatant theft, the des

nk check. "Here," he said, pressing it into my hand. "Co

, could be bought. I looked at the check, then at him, then back at the check. With a sudden, violent movement, I ripped it in half, the

r of something, perhaps confusion, crossed

compensation for my sister's art, and I certainly don't need it for my heart." I pu

a silent question. He was expecting me to speak, to explain, to fill the void. But

nt... perhaps a larger share in the company? I can arrange for a substantial stock tran

nce, usually a source of anxiety

-out sound. "Or... we co

My memory replayed itself, a cruel reminder of his past words. A child? Dayna,

clear your priorities lie elsewhere?" My blood boiled. I grabbed the torn divorce papers from the bedside table, the ones he had si

nd I am certainly not going to have your child just so you can appease your grandfather and keep your precious Everleigh close! We a