Constance's shoulders, shoving

pine collided hard with the decorative entryway wall. She let

ling. She stared at the angry, raised red handprint blooming acr

er thumb to the corner of her mouth and wiped away

e blood. A flicker of genuine panic crossed his face, a

. She looked at him like he was a pi

pped dead i

ll sense of reality. "She deserved it!" she shrieked, pointing a shaking

walked slowly toward Constance. There was no an

om Constance's face.

Brendon's locked study, I found the shredded copies of the medical bribe receipts he forgot to burn. I know your husband died of a heart attack in his twenty-year-old

nstance like a p

grayish white. Her lips trembled violently, but no sound came out

is eyes wide with shock. He had no

heel, grabbed her canvas bag from the floor, and walk

her middle finger directly in Brendo

mmed shut behind them,

nt the metal doors closed, the adrenalin

en didn't cry. She just rested her forehead against

biting chill of the Manhattan autumn wind

nd threw her arm up. A yellow

Ho. The corner of Spring and Me

lickered through the window, casting alternating s

a discreet, high-end cafe. Aisling threw ca

imed. The cafe was warm, smellin

secluded booth in the back corner. The

iately pulled a clean napkin, wrapped an ice cube in it,

che through Christen's skin, but

yes. Her stomach was still tied i

ss her cheek and the memory of Constance and Brendon's smug, cruel faces shifted something deep inside her. They had stolen three years of her youth an

s flat, carrying the weight of an absolute vow.