Chapter 2

Donovan's jaw tightened.

Two seconds passed. Then the weak, innocent mask slid back into place. "I don't understand what you're saying. Kayla, I've been home waiting for you—"

"I know it wasn't you." I smiled. "You would never lie to me."

Something flickered in Donovan's eyes. He didn't meet my gaze.

"Of course not," he said, voice low. "You're the most important person in my life. I would never lie to you."

I forced down the heat rising behind my eyes. Turned. Wheeled him out of the kitchen.

By the time I brought dinner out, the living room was empty.

The bedroom door was cracked open. His hushed voice drifted through.

"—Peggy, sweetheart, I've got a huge surprise planned for you tomorrow. I'll be there to celebrate your birthday myself."

Peggy's voice spilled from the phone speaker. Sugary. Cloying. "But tomorrow… isn't it Kayla's birthday too? Won't she be sad if you don't spend it with her?"

"Don't worry about Kayla. She hasn't celebrated her birthday in years. She's used to it."

Peggy squealed. "I knew it! You love me best!"

I stood at the door. I stood there for a long time. Then I untied my apron without a sound. Turned. Left.

Donovan wheeled himself out. The apartment was empty.

On the dining table sat a bowl of his favorite baked mac and cheese. And a pill wrapped in tinfoil.

Normally, I would've been out working the night shift by then.

He stared at the bowl. Images flashed through his mind. My bloodless face. The ugly gash across my palm. My spine, so thin it looked ready to snap.

He grabbed his phone. Dialed a number.

The next day, I took Donovan to Presbyterian for his follow-up.

The attending physician looked ecstatic. "Miss Shepherd! A research institute in Europe just released a breakthrough drug. Remarkable results for ALS. We've secured a clinical trial spot for Mr. Reed!"

I stood in the exam room. My voice came out flat. "What are the odds of recovery?"

"Over eighty percent!"

Donovan played his part. His eyes welled up on cue. He grabbed my hand. His voice trembled. "Kayla… I can get better… I can stay with you…"

I looked at him. He was such a good actor.

"If only one of us gets to live," I said, slowly, "I hope it's you."

Donovan's brow furrowed. "What nonsense is that? We're both going to be fine. When I'm recovered and back on the board, you'll be that Ivy League star everyone looks up to again—"

I let my mouth twitch. Said nothing.

That "Ivy League star"—you destroyed her yourself. You've forgotten.

The doctor cited "complex sterile protocols" and asked me to leave the room.

I stood around the corner in the hallway. Watched Donovan take off his hospital gown. Watched him walk with steady strides into the elevator. The black Maybach was already waiting downstairs. I watched the car pull out of the hospital gates.

Then I turned. Walked into another exam room at the end of the hall.

"Miss Shepherd, the tumor has begun compressing major nerves. We've missed the optimal surgical window." The doctor set the scans down. His voice was heavy. "Two weeks ago, there might have been a slim chance. Now—it's a matter of days. Maybe two."

I sat there in silence for a long time. Then I nodded.

"When I die," I said, "cremate me directly. Send the ashes to Reed Manor in the Hamptons. To Mr. Donovan Reed."

I left all the cash I had on me. Walked out of the hospital.

My phone lit up. A text.

「Come see the manor.」

Sender: Peggy.

I hailed a cab.

The estate I thought the bank had seized five years ago was ablaze with lights. Decked out like a fairy-tale castle.

Guests everywhere. Flowers everywhere. Champagne flutes catching the light.

Peggy wore a diamond-studded tiara. A delicate lace gown. Handmade. Old-guard Parisian atelier. Obvious from a single glance.

She clung to Donovan's arm. Basked in the crowd around a six-tiered fondant cake.

She pressed her palms together. Her voice dripped sweetness. "My wish—to be Donovan's one and only little princess. Forever and ever."

Donovan smiled. He reached into his inner jacket pocket. Pulled out a robin's-egg-blue velvet box.

The moment the box opened—every drop of blood in my body froze solid.