ounded by a dormant winter garden. It was a world away

larke, stood there, her kind eyes taking in Eve's swollen face

ntly of lavender and old books. The tight knot in her chest fin

a, and pressed a mug of warm milk into her cold hands.

ir at the planner's office. The photos. The canceled recep

le face hardening with a

er hand. "Child," she said, her voice firm. "T

d the answer was yes. It had to be. But now, faced with the si

e-woman show, Eve. If a relationship brings you nothin

rds were a key, unlocking a door she h

vo

er childhood bed. It was the first

house. It was as empty and silent as she

ure and curated art, felt like a luxury

elebrated socialite, a philanthropist, a style icon. There were photos of her and Augustine through the yea

y crowned them. A Lo

ab of pain, reinforcing the narrative that

something, anything. She reached into her coat pocket, her fingers searching for the hard, f

ket was

her throat. She stoo

ing ring

m the estate. Stopping on the highway. Her gr

rt, her hands shaking as she checked between sofa

s if it had vanis

her marriage. As broken and painful as i

er at the Rhodes estate.

usan searched her entire hous

ulterated panic washing over her. She was a

, her phone buzzed. She fumbled for it, ho

n unknow

nored the call. She needed to talk to Aug

in her contacts and pressed the call but