h the gaps in the blackout curtains, hittin

len and heavy, like sandpaper

her was empty. Th

ng was

ess in her knee. She rubbed the scar tissue automatica

mething on t

Centurion card. Beside

rself something nice

made of titanium. It felt cold and imp

affection, not time, not

the note again

h night was dreaming about the car crash. A rough night was

hower while fantasizing about your ex-girl

t and threw it at the trash can. It mi

Her gaze fell on the long, jagged

years

f water. The screech of ti

way. She had been "Ariella Vane" to the world then, a rising Principal Dancer at the ABT, dancing under her mother'

ixer, a "dropout" who quit college to pursue a hobby that never went anywhere. Corinna had reinforced that narrative over the years, feed

smell of searing flesh. And then th

. It had crushed The Nutcrac

, forcing the memor

soft knock

Gard

as pulled back in a severe bun, but her eyes were sof

ging her hands on her apron. "He said he has

he housekeeper. "

, ma

ho the busine

down at her shoes. "

n't ha

y, Mrs. Higgin

ed to the study-the one room in the house Fielding rarely entered bec

hogany desk and o

hovered over

the email she had been

ion – Sorbonne Universit

ght attempt to prove to herself that her brai

icked

ased to in

ri

A city where she was just a student with a limp, not a f

ad thought about Fielding. About hi

about the sh

survivor's guilt. As long as she was here, broken and depend

buzzed o

from Fi

through a hard time. Just going to ch

even trying to hide it anymore. He was

k card on the nightstand

pt O

cked th

l confetti explod

wasn't fear. It was the adrenaline of a pri

new tab. Apartments for r

time, it was Fielding's p

her voice steady.

ou about the schedule. We have the Charity Gala in the city tomorrow night, and then the

amptons? It's barely

needs a break after the Gala. He'

phone tightened. "Wh

on the o

ssi

... and Ms

ri

ading them first at the Gala like prize ponies. It was a power play. Or maybe he w

the dark computer screen. Her eyes

ll be ready,

at." Jessica s

l hu

g to the Hampto

en behind a row of art history textbooks. She

other had left her. Fielding knew about the fund, but he thought it was a pittance. He didn't k

d out the

hin, extending her arms in a port de bras. Her leg wouldn't allow her to

" she whispere

rfect stage f

own sta