Blakely family's favorite playground, a glittering spectacle

amonds parted before me. Whispers followed in my wake. They all knew about Annabe

Andrew, looking dashing in his tuxedo, w

resting possessively on his arm. Her son,

them, so happy, so untouched by the tragedy they h

y voice cutting thr

n he saw me. "Elyse. What are you

" I said, my eyes locked on Gab

, her expression shifting to one of sorrowful concern. "Oh, E

he corner of Annabel's favorite designer handbag-and a melted fragment of her credit card. The NTSB i

aid, holding it out. "A memento

draining of color. Gabrielle recoil

stammered. "What kind

ngerously low. "It's what's left of he

und to see who was watching. "You're trying to r

oulders shaking. "Andrew, she's

mbe dessert, a plate of crepes suzette with a high flame. With a supposed stumble, he "a

the credit card fragment, turning them to ash in a matter of seconds. I cr

oared, not at his nephew, but

backward, my heel catching on the rug, and fell

protecting Gabrielle and her son. "Get out," he sn

d. And in his eyes, I saw nothing. No love, no remorse, no humanity. Onl