Torin didn't follow me to the doors.

He shoved the tablet back at Owen. "It's a coincidence. Northvale has been nervous about Harbor for weeks. Call their office. Fix it."

"Sir, they won't take—"

"Fix it."

Behind him, Sabine swayed. She put two fingers to her temple, and her knees folded at the exact moment Torin turned around.

"Sabine!" He caught her before she hit the marble.

"I'm fine," she whispered, loud enough for the back row. "It's just my heart. All this stress. Seeing you hurt like that..."

"Don't talk." Torin scooped her up in his arms. Her red dress spilled over his sleeve like a flag.

He carried her right past me. His shoulder clipped mine.

He didn't even look down.

Dad's arm went stiff under my hand. "Ellie. That boy just stepped over your veil."

"I saw."

"You're going to let them walk out of here like the victims?"

The side door swung shut behind Torin. Three hundred guests turned back toward me, waiting for the next act.

I let go of Dad's arm.

"No," I said. "I'm not."

I walked back to the altar and dialed the Marquette. The night manager picked up on the second ring.

"Mr. Albrecht, this is Elara Quinn. You offered me the lobby and elevator footage from Thursday."

"Yes, Miss Quinn. I still have it ready."

"Send the full file to the Grand Lyle's tech booth. Unedited. Timestamps on."

He paused. "Publicly?"

"Publicly."

Two minutes later, the screen behind me flickered again.

The same lobby. The same tall man in the dark coat. Only this time, the camera showed what came before.

Me, walking fast. Then stumbling. My hand slapping the wall. My knees giving out.

The man lunged and caught me under the arms before my head hit the floor. He pressed two fingers to my neck and said something to the front desk clerk, who grabbed a phone.

"That's Evren Ward," someone in the fourth row muttered. "The cardiologist from St. Aurelian's. He operated on my mother."

The guests had gone quiet.

In the elevator footage, Evren held my elbow to keep me upright. His head bent toward mine because I was saying my father's room number, over and over.

The doors opened on the ninth floor.

Evren walked me to Room 914. I went in. Dad was sitting on the edge of the bed, gray-faced.

Evren didn't follow. He turned around and walked down the hall to Room 931. Alone.

His door closed.

That was the photo. Room 931. A door I never touched.

The clip ended on a time stamp. Me, leaving my father's room forty minutes later. Evren, already gone.

Nobody laughed this time.

A woman near the aisle lowered her phone. I'd watched her film the slap. Now her thumb hovered over the screen, and she quietly pressed delete.

Another guest did the same. Then another.

The man who'd laughed during the photos stared at his shoes.

"Elara, honey." Torin's aunt, Delphine, stood up from the family section. Her pearls trembled. "We didn't know. If you'd only explained—"

"I tried," I said. "You all watched him knock the phone out of my hand."

Delphine opened her mouth, then sat back down.

Dad stepped up beside me. His voice came out rough. "Feel better?"

I thought about it.

"Not yet."

My cracked phone buzzed against the altar. Torin's name lit the broken screen.

I picked it up. "Yes?"

"Take it down." No hello. He was breathing hard, and I could hear hospital monitors beeping behind him. "The video. Take it down right now."

"Why?"

"Because it's everywhere, Elara! People are tearing Sabine apart online. They're calling her a liar, a homewrecker. She had a heart attack in the car!"

"A heart attack."

"Are you laughing?" His voice cracked. "She's in the ER!"

I hadn't realized I was smiling. My cheek still throbbed where he'd hit me.

I tapped the speaker button and held the phone up toward the room.

"Say that again, Torin," I said. "I want to make sure I understand."

"Understand what? She just misunderstood! Do you really have to destroy her?"

His voice bounced off the high ceiling and settled over three hundred people.

Nobody moved. Somewhere in the back, a glass clinked against a table.

"She misunderstood," I repeated. "And you slapped your wife in front of everyone she knows. What did you misunderstand, Torin?"

The line went quiet.

"Elara, you're on speaker, aren't you?"

I ended the call.

Then I dialed Gideon.

"The papers," I said. "Are they ready?"

"Printed and waiting," he said. "Where should I send them?"

"Nowhere. I'll deliver them myself. St. Aurelian's emergency department."

—

Gideon drove Dad home. I took a cab across town, still in my wedding dress, the folded veil tucked under my arm.

The ER nurse at the desk blinked at me. "Ma'am, are you hurt?"

"Sabine Rourke. Which room?"

She pointed down the hall without a word.

Through the half-open curtain, I saw Sabine propped against the pillows, scrolling her phone and frowning. Her color was perfect. Torin sat beside her, holding her hand.

I pulled the curtain back.

Sabine yanked the blanket up to her chin. Torin shot to his feet.

"What are you doing here?"

I held out the envelope. "Divorce papers. Gideon flagged where to sign."

He didn't take it. Just like the ring.

So I set it on the foot of Sabine's bed.

"You came all the way here to do this?" Torin's voice dropped low. "While she's lying in a hospital bed?"

"She looks fine to me."

Sabine's mouth fell open. "My heart—"

"Your monitor says seventy-two beats a minute," I said. "Mine was higher when he hit me."

I turned and left.

Footsteps pounded behind me before I reached the exit.

"Elara! Wait!"

The automatic doors slid open. Cold air hit my bare shoulders.

A black sedan idled at the curb. Evren Ward stood beside it in the same dark coat from the footage, one hand already on the rear door.

He opened it for me.

"Your father called," he said quietly. "He told me you might need a ride."

"He was right."

"Elara!" Torin burst through the doors behind me, out of breath. "Who is that? Is that him? Is that the man from the video?"

I gathered my skirt and slid into the back seat.

I didn't turn around.

Evren closed the door, glanced once at Torin, and walked around to the driver's side.

Through the tinted glass, I watched Torin's reflection grow smaller in the side mirror. He was still standing on the sidewalk, phone in hand, mouth moving.

Evren pulled into traffic. After a block, he spoke without looking back.

"He's going to start digging, you know. Into who you really are."

I leaned my head against the cold window.

"Let him dig," I said. "He won't like what's buried there."

The ringing in my left ear didn't stop overnight.

By morning, Evren had me sitting on an exam table at St. Aurelian's, a paper gown crinkling under me while an ENT doctor shined a light into my ear.

"Minor eardrum bruising," she said. "It'll heal. But your bloodwork came back with something else."

"Something bad?"

She glanced at the chart, then at me. "You're pregnant, Ms. Quinn. About six weeks."

I laughed.

I didn't mean to. It just came out, short and dry, like a cough.

The doctor blinked. "Is that... good news?"

"I don't know yet."

Out in the hall, Evren straightened off the wall. He read my face and didn't ask. He just handed me my coat.

In the car, I called Gideon.

"I need you to add something to the file," I said. "I'm pregnant."

A long silence. "Torin's?"

"Yes."

"Do you want him told?"

I watched the city slide past the window. "Not by me. You handle it. Custody, rights, whatever the law says. I don't want to talk to him about this child. Ever."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"My passport and birth certificate are still at the penthouse. I'm getting them today."

"Elara, let me send someone—"

"No. It's my home. I'll walk in the front door."

—

The doorman at the Halcyon Tower looked at me like I was a ghost.

"Miss Quinn. I, uh, wasn't told you'd be coming."

"I still have a key, Paul."

The elevator opened onto the fortieth floor. The penthouse smelled wrong. Gardenias. Heavy and sweet.

I never wore gardenias.

Two designer suitcases sat open in the living room. A silk robe hung over the back of my reading chair.

I followed the smell to the master bedroom.

Sabine sat at my vanity, brushing her hair. She saw me in the mirror and didn't turn around.

Around her throat hung a thin gold chain with a sapphire pendant shaped like a teardrop.

My mother's necklace.

The one thing I had left of her.

"Oh," Sabine said, smiling at my reflection. "It's you."

"Take that off."

She tilted her head. "Torin said I could stay here while I recover. My heart, you know." She tapped her chest, right above the sapphire. "Doctors say no stress."

"You look relaxed."

"I am." She finally turned on the stool to face me. "What I don't understand is why you're here. A woman whose wedding got canceled in front of three hundred people. Where do you even find the nerve to come back?"

I crossed the room in four steps.

My fingers closed around the chain. One sharp pull, and the clasp snapped. Gold slid through my hand.

Sabine shrieked and clutched her neck.

Before she could stand, I swung.

My palm cracked across her cheek. Her head snapped sideways, and the hairbrush clattered onto the vanity.

"You steal my things," I said, "and you expect me to hold still while you wear them?"

She stared up at me, one hand pressed to her face. Her eyes went wide, then wet.

Then she screamed.

"Torin! Torin, she's attacking me!"

Footsteps pounded down the hall. Torin burst through the doorway, shirt half-buttoned, keys still in his hand.

He took one look and pulled Sabine behind him like I was a dog off its leash.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"She was wearing my mother's necklace."

"So you hit her? She's sick, Elara! She was in the ER yesterday!"

Sabine peeked around his arm, sniffling. "I just borrowed it. I thought it was costume jewelry. It was sitting right there in the drawer."

"In my drawer," I said. "In my bedroom."

"Apologize," Torin said.

I looked at him.

"Apologize to her. Right now. Or I swear I'll—"

"You'll what? Slap me again?" I turned my left cheek toward him. The bruise had gone purple overnight. "Go ahead. The doorman saw me come up. Paul's very observant."

His hand twitched at his side. Then it dropped.

I pulled out my cracked phone and dialed.

Torin's voice sharpened. "Who are you calling?"

"The police."

"Are you insane? Over a necklace?"

"Hello," I said into the phone. "I'd like to report a theft at the Halcyon Tower, penthouse forty."

—

Officer Rennick was broad and tired and clearly didn't want to be there. His partner, a young woman named Ostrowski, stood by the door with her notepad.

"So the necklace is recovered," Rennick said. "Ma'am, are you missing anything else?"

"I don't know yet." I pointed to the suitcases in the living room. "Those aren't mine. They weren't here three days ago."

Sabine's chin lifted. "Those are my personal things."

"Then you won't mind opening them."

"Absolutely not." She grabbed Torin's sleeve. "Tell them, Torin. This is harassment."

Torin rubbed his jaw. "Officer, this is a domestic misunderstanding. My wife is upset about yesterday—"

"Ex-wife," I said.

"—and she's taking it out on a sick woman."

Ostrowski looked at Sabine. "Ma'am, if there's nothing in there, opening the bag clears this up in thirty seconds."

Sabine's lips pressed into a thin line.

She knelt. She unzipped the first suitcase slowly, like it weighed a hundred pounds.

Silk blouses. Shoes. A makeup bag.

Ostrowski crouched beside her and lifted the makeup bag. It clinked.

She unzipped it.

My pearl earrings. My emerald ring from my grandmother. Two bracelets. And my father's old Patek watch, the one he'd given me the day I left home.

Torin went very still.

"Sabine," he said quietly. "Why is Elara's watch in your bag?"

"I was going to give it back!" Her voice climbed. "I just borrowed them. I wanted to look nice for you. I didn't have anything, Torin. My things are all in storage, and I thought—"

"You thought you'd pack them," I said. "In your suitcase. With your shoes."

The tears came fast now, rolling down her red cheek. She reached for Torin's hand.

For the first time, he didn't take it.

Rennick sighed. "Ma'am, do you want to press charges, or are we calling it a misunderstanding?"

Torin turned to me. His voice dropped. "Elara. Please. Drop it. She's not well. Don't put this on her record."

"Why not?"

"Because it'll follow her forever."

"So did that slap on my wedding day." I held out my hand to Ostrowski. She placed the watch in my palm. It was still warm from the bag. "File the report, Officer. All of it."

Sabine made a choked sound.

Ostrowski wrote something down. Rennick nodded once.

I gathered the jewelry, the necklace with its broken clasp, the watch. Then I went into the study, opened the safe, and took my passport and birth certificate.

When I came back, Torin was standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the open suitcase like he didn't recognize it.

I pulled a fresh envelope from my coat. Gideon had printed a second copy this morning. He knew Torin wouldn't touch the first.

I set it on the glass coffee table, right in front of him.

"Sign," I said. "You two make a perfect pair."

He didn't move. His eyes were on the envelope.

Then they slid to my stomach.

Just for a second. So fast I almost missed it.

My blood went cold.

"Elara," he said slowly. "Why were you at St. Aurelian's this morning?"