After feeding Grandma Nora's body into the cremation furnace with her own hands, Hilda Summers declined Jasper Fairmont's ninety-ninth call and blocked his number.

She found her supervisor and withdrew her resignation, but asked to be transferred to a branch in another city.

Most people steered clear of the funeral industry, and Hilda was sharp and capable. When she'd first handed in her notice to get married, her supervisor had been genuinely sorry to see her go. Now, he agreed without hesitation.

When Hilda stood there in silence for a long moment, the supervisor spoke gently.

"Jasper's a good young man. Once you two are married and settled, your grandmother can rest easy. If I remember right, the wedding's supposed to be any day now. Are you pushing it back?"

Hilda opened her mouth. Her voice came out raw. "There's not going to be a wedding."

"A man like that, born into money and privilege, was never going to end up with a woman who works in a funeral home."

The supervisor froze, staring at the ashen pallor of her face. He didn't dare ask more.

Hilda swallowed the blood she'd bitten from the inside of her cheek and offered no further explanation. She tucked Grandma Nora's death certificate into her bag and walked out on unsteady legs.

Grandma had been getting on in years. Her one wish before she died was to see Hilda settled somewhere safe.

But on the eve of the wedding, Hilda had stumbled onto a conversation between Jasper and a friend.

"You two have been together seven years. What are you doing getting engaged to another woman?"

Hilda held her breath. Jasper's voice carried through the door, every word razor-sharp and clear.

"How am I supposed to marry her? You know the gap between our families. You have to marry within your class. And on top of that, she works at a funeral home. Can you imagine how embarrassing that is for the Fairmonts? I can't exactly offend my parents just to make her grandmother happy."

Even his friend sounded uneasy. "So you're engaged now. What about Hilda? Your wedding with her is in a few days."

Hilda's knees buckled. She nearly crashed into the vase by the study door.

Jasper heard the noise. His eyes went cold, and he started toward the door.

...

He sighed, his tone casual. "It's fine. I was never going to register the marriage with Hilda anyway. She won't find out. We'll just go ahead with the ceremony as planned."

"Keep your mouth shut about this, understand? If Hilda finds out, you know how she is. She'll cry and throw a fit and demand we break up. We've been together too long. I don't want any trouble."

His friend agreed without hesitation.

Hilda felt as though she'd plunged into an ice bath. In the last seconds before Jasper opened the door, some shred of survival instinct sent her stumbling back to the bedroom, where she locked herself in the bathroom.

She gripped the edge of the sink. Matching towels and toothbrushes sat on the counter. That very morning, she'd been leaning against Jasper right here, playfully swiping at him with his razor while he laughed.

Hilda stared at her reflection. Then she raised her hand and slapped herself across the face.

It hurt. God, it hurt.

She looked in the mirror, and the tears broke free all at once.

It wasn't a dream.

Why wasn't it a dream?

Seven years together. When they first met, Jasper Fairmont had been the golden boy gone wild, his name a permanent fixture on the school's disciplinary board for cutting class, fighting, smoking, and drinking.

Then Hilda transferred in, and everything changed. He quit smoking, quit drinking, gave up street racing. He became almost docile, reining in his temper, content to follow at her heels.

Everyone joked that the untamable Jasper Fairmont had been brought to heel by a quiet, well-behaved girl like Hilda.

And Hilda had believed it. She'd believed she was truly different to him.

She'd poured herself into planning their future together. Knowing her line of work would put him in an awkward position, she'd been ready to walk away from a career she'd built from the ground up.

She knew the Fairmont family looked down on her, so she'd hired an etiquette coach and painstakingly learned how to be a proper society wife.

The cuts on her fingers from flower-arranging lessons hadn't even healed. Under the running water they turned white and puckered, stinging so badly that tears streamed down her face.

Jasper knocked on the door. He said something had come up at the office and he needed to leave. He wanted a goodbye kiss.

He waited outside for a long time, hearing nothing but the rush of water. A prickle of unease made him reach for the door handle, but then Vivienne Blake's call came through.

"Jasper, you promised to come help me try on wedding dresses today. When are you getting here?"

Jasper glanced one more time at the sealed bathroom door, then lowered his voice. "I know, sweetheart. On my way."

He left in a hurry.

Hilda slid down the door until she was sitting on the cold tile floor, her back pressed against it. Only after his footsteps faded to nothing did the last thread holding her together snap, and a wail tore from her throat.

Grandma was lying in a hospital bed, still asking about the wedding. Hilda's jaw trembled the entire time she lied.

Over and over she said, I'm fine. Jasper's wonderful. Everything's fine.

But Grandma didn't believe her. Fighting through her illness, she went to Jasper's company behind Hilda's back and ran into Vivienne Blake at the front desk.

"This is Fairmont Group, ma'am. Are you confused? Why would your granddaughter's husband be here?"

Grandma thought the young woman looked kind. With shaking hands, she dug out a photo of Hilda and Jasper together and held it out to Vivienne, hoping she might help.

Vivienne took the photo and smiled sweetly.

"I think you've made a mistake. The man in this picture is my fiancé."

She held the photo up high for everyone in the lobby to see. "Take a look, everyone. That's my fiancé, isn't it? I have no idea who the woman next to him is. Ma'am, are you sure you have the right person?"

A crushing pain seized Grandma's chest. She kept repeating that it wasn't possible.

She shuffled forward and clutched Vivienne's hand. "Young lady, please don't say such things. You must have it wrong. How can you be the one marrying him?"

"Who else would it be?"

Vivienne arched one perfect brow, tossed the photo to the floor, and let out a derisive laugh. "Surely you don't think your homewrecking granddaughter is the one marrying into the Fairmont family?"

Vivienne recoiled, disgust written across her face as she shook off Grandma Nora's hand. She pulled out a wet wipe and scrubbed each finger like she was removing contamination.

Before marrying Jasper, Vivienne had dug up everything there was to know about the people around him. She knew all about Hilda.

A silent sneer curled behind her lips.

Hilda really ought to take a good look in the mirror before playing the childhood-sweethearts card with Jasper.

Grandma Nora stared at the scattered photos on the floor. Her vision blurred, darkening at the edges, and her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

Then, without warning, Vivienne's voice shifted to something soft and coy.

"Jasper, you're finally here! This woman barged in out of nowhere, throwing her age around and making a scene. She keeps insisting you're her granddaughter's husband."

Grandma Nora forced her clouded eyes open as wide as they would go. She shifted her stiff body, and the moment she saw Jasper, she reached for him on instinct.

"Jasper, dear."

But this man who had once sat at a hospital bedside holding Hilda's hand and promising to love her granddaughter for the rest of his life now stood frowning at the old woman. "What are security doing? How did they let someone like this in?"

He stepped on the photo beneath his shoe.

"Get her out. My wedding is in a few days. I won't have some stranger ruining Vivienne's mood."

He turned to leave. Behind him, something hit the ground with a heavy thud, followed by a chorus of screams.

Jasper's pupils contracted. He whipped around.

He moved toward her on instinct, but Vivienne caught his arm.

"Careful, Jasper. What if she's faking it to shake us down for money?"

A few employees wandered over to check. Vivienne tugged at Jasper's sleeve, her voice a playful whine. "Come on, just let them call 911. That's enough."

"Unless you're really staying behind for Hilda's sake and leaving me here alone?"

Jasper shook his head immediately. "Of course not."

He took Vivienne's hand and smiled. "Let's go. It's the birthday girl's day. The sky could fall and I wouldn't leave your side."

That day, Hilda had been like a lost child. She didn't know where Grandma had gone or what had happened. She didn't understand how the old woman who was supposed to be discharged that morning was dead by afternoon.

All Hilda remembered was how bright the hospital lights were, so bright the hallway blurred. She ran after the stretcher, legs burning, the taste of blood rising in her throat.

She collapsed to her knees outside the operating room, desperate for a shoulder to lean on for the first time in her life.

By the time she realized what she was doing, the call to Jasper had already gone through.

A few rings, then a woman's voice picked up. "Who is this?"

Behind the voice: the rush of a shower running.

Hilda opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

She curled in on herself, inch by inch, until she was doubled over, making a sound somewhere between laughing and sobbing, a raw, airless rasp that could have been either.

The woman on the other end let out a scoff and hung up.

Just before Hilda blacked out, a searing cramp tore through her lower abdomen. Then she felt warmth, thick and steady, spreading down her inner thighs.

When she opened her eyes again, a doctor was telling her she had lost her first child.

After leaving the funeral home, Hilda went straight home.

She had been shattered, one blow after another. Her body, still wrecked from the miscarriage, hadn't even begun to heal. She should have been resting.

But she couldn't wait another second. Everything connected to Jasper was an invisible hand around her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

She needed to get out. Now.

She hadn't expected Jasper to come back.

His eyes went red the instant he saw the ransacked apartment. He grabbed the suitcase from her hands, his voice cracking. "Where are you going?"

Hilda's voice was hoarse, scraped raw. "Jasper, let's break up."

"No. No, no, baby, why would you suddenly want to break up?"

Tears flooded Jasper's eyes. He seized her hands, gripping them so hard his knuckles went white.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Work's had me tied up these past few days and I neglected you. Don't hold it against me, please?"

"Hit me if you want. Scream at me. I'll get on my knees right now. Just don't break up with me, okay?"

He pulled her into his arms, rambling about how terrified he'd been when her phone wouldn't go through.

"Jasper." Her voice cut through his noise. "Have you ever actually thought about marrying me?"

He froze. Something panicked flashed through his eyes before he could hide it.

"How could I not want to marry you? Our wedding is a week away!"

He pressed her hand flat against his chest. "Hilda, did someone feed you lies? Is that what this is about?"

Hilda looked at the man in front of her, his face arranged into perfect, tender devotion, and felt nothing but revulsion and absurdity crashing together.

She wrenched her hand free. Her nails raked across the back of his hand, leaving a thin line of blood.

"You're already a married man, Jasper. Does this act of yours really seem appropriate?"

Every muscle in his body locked. The flawless mask cracked, fracture by fracture.

Hilda grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door, but Jasper yanked her back so hard she nearly fell.

"That's not it, Hilda. You've got it wrong. Just let me explain."

"I never wanted to marry her. I swear. My parents forced me. I had no choice!"

He swiped at his tears. "I love you. I only love you. Please believe me."

Hilda stared at him, her gaze ice-cold. Then, without a word, she reached out and tore open the buttons of his shirt.

A sprawl of red marks covered his skin, unmistakable.

"Jasper, I don't dare believe you anymore."

Jasper's expression shifted. He scrambled to cover his neck with his hand, panic written across his face.

Hilda's look of pure disgust cut through him. He clutched his collar and snarled, "Do you really have to do this, Hilda?"

"I really am in a difficult position. Why won't you believe me?"

"It was just this once, I swear. It was an accident. It'll never happen again."

"I know you hate me, but you still have your grandma. Think about her, will you? I've been paying every cent of her medical bills. If we break up, what happens to her?"

"And I've wanted to bring you home to meet my family, I really have. But Hilda, people have hang-ups about death. How am I supposed to explain what you do for a living?"

"I'm under a lot of pressure too, but I've never once asked you to sacrifice anything for me, have I? Can't you at least try to understand?"

Half confession, half excuse. But Hilda could no longer tell the difference.

His voice sliced through her skull like a serrated blade, and the pain blurred her vision.

Jasper lost patience. He lunged forward and snatched her suitcase.

The sudden yank sent Hilda stumbling. Her vision went black, and her legs gave out beneath her.

She dreamed.

She dreamed of Jasper holding her hand as they skipped class to watch the sunset over the ocean, swearing in the perfect silence that he would love her for the rest of his life.

She dreamed of Jasper stepping in to fight off some thugs for her, getting hurt in the process, wincing through the pain while still telling her not to cry.

She dreamed of the Fairmonts discovering their relationship and dragging him home, locking him away. Jasper jumping from the fourth floor, shattering his leg, forcing his parents to relent.

And then she dreamed of Grandma Nora. The tiny old woman took her hand and said, Sweetheart, all I want is for you to be happy.

A shrill ringtone dragged her back.

An IV drip was taped to the back of her hand. Jasper was gone. A note on the nightstand said something had come up at the office.

She might have believed it, if not for the photo that had just arrived from an unknown number on her phone. A photo of a kiss.

When she answered the call, the other end stayed silent for a long time. Just as her patience was about to snap, a man's hoarse voice broke through.

"Is this Hilda Summers?"

His voice trembled, the words tumbling over each other.

"Hilda, hello. I saw your file at the doctor's office. I'm sorry for the intrusion, but there's something I need to confirm."

"Would you be willing to come in and take a paternity test with me?"

Even the expedited results would take at least two days.

The middle-aged man carried himself with an unmistakable air of wealth, yet he stood off to the side, fidgeting, opening his mouth and closing it again. Finally, all he managed was her name. "Hilda," he said, eyes rimming red. "That's a beautiful name."

With shaking hands, he reached into his breast pocket and produced a photograph. In it was a child, five or six years old.

He said the child had been wearing a small gold locket engraved with the family name when she went missing.

Hilda stared at the photograph for a long time, her thoughts tangling into knots.

Of course she'd seen that locket.

Grandma Nora had treasured it. It had paid for nearly half her schooling.

"This is insane," Hilda told her friend. "It feels like the first twenty-some years of my life were a lie, and now everything's been turned upside down."

They were sitting at a banquet. Hilda had tagged along on her friend's business trip, planning to check into a hospital to recover before dealing with everything else.

Her friend suggested, "Why don't you just ask your grandma what's going on?"

Hilda's hands went still.

Some things, once spoken aloud, had to be remembered all over again. And every time they were remembered, the grief came flooding back. Her fists clenched until her nails bit into her palms. She couldn't speak.

Her friend, oblivious, kept going. "I keep forgetting to ask. How's your grandma doing?"

"I heard she collapsed at Jasper's company that day. Is she okay?"

Hilda whipped around. "What did you just say?"

Her friend blinked. "You didn't know?"

"I was at Fairmont Group that day for a meeting. Your grandma was stopped at the front desk by some woman. The woman was pretty hostile, throwing around words like homewrecker. Then Jasper showed up."

"Their relationship..." Her friend studied Hilda's face carefully before continuing. "It seemed a little too close for comfort. Did Jasper ever mention her to you?"

"After I left, I heard your grandma had fainted. I went back to check but couldn't find her. Jasper was there, though, so I figured she was taken care of."

Her friend trailed off, startled by the look on Hilda's face.

"Hilda? Hilda, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?"

Hilda shook her head. She bit down hard on her lip and pressed both hands over her face.

So Grandma had gone to see Jasper that day. She'd known everything.

How angry must she have been when she left? How heartbroken?

Hilda forced a smile at her friend, but in the next instant, a wave of grief so heavy it seemed to drag every feature of her face downward swallowed it whole.

She didn't even bother making an excuse. She stumbled to her feet and left the table, barely holding herself together.