Helena sat alone in the cavernous living room of the Upper East Side townhouse, watching the water trace ja

doorbell was a

ring through the peephole, she saw Caleb, Gaston's executive assistant,

ened t

and personal discomfort. He collapsed his umbrella, shaking the water fro

urrowed in confusion. The

oked i

ctangular b

filled her ears, drowning out the gentle patte

is voice low, his gaze fixed somewhere ove

in

ivered by her stoic foot soldier:

delivered by his embarrassed ass

tlefield of her body. It was the most profound humiliation she had ever endured. He

s digging into her palm. She could feel Caleb's pitying gaze

deliberate, steady movements, she tore open the paper bag, ripped the

ontact with the mortified assistant, she tossed

its way down, a painful, phys

erhaps a sliver of sympathy. "My apologies, Mrs. Vaughn." He turned, opened

th a sound of finality. Her back slid down the smoot

otest against the pill she'd forced into it. The pain wa

rd campus. She'd been a scholarship student, stranded under the awning of the

aid a word. He'd simply shrugged off his expensive wool coat, draped it over her trembling

rief, shining moment, that scent had been the smell of hope. Of k

esent. The memory, once a source of secret warmth, now f

on the entryway table, lit u

e'd been carrying those two words like a splinter under her skin since the night of the ballroom, a shadow

to her bones. Whatever storm was coming-whether it wore the face of a gh

or the phone, crawling the last

't ever think you can

were a scalpel, expertly excising the last bit of sentimentality she held

her arm back and hurled the phone against the far wall. It hit with a sickening c

dying pulse of white static-and then went black. The phone lay in pieces on th

nd her cramping stomach, and wept. Not the silent, dignified tea

attled the windows, masking

out and eerily calm. She pushed herself up, her limbs heavy and unresponsive

lled open the top drawer, her movements robotic. Her fingers bypassed the ne

on her finger at the altar. It was heavy, co

ith a flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the back of the draw

sed the

that had loved, was now offline. A self-preservation protocol had been ini