had started to bleed again. The blessed numbness of the drug seeped throu

spoke, her voice flat and devoid

not good for you

it t

ncing everything from the cloud while Helena drifted in and out of consciousness. Helena hadn't asked about her old, shattered

scrolled past the damning photo an

nhattan's most exclusive and discreet obstetrics and gynecology practices. Speculation is rampant

ics. Gy

gna

to her consciousness

rrifying, detached clarity,

and two nights ago. "Tonight

delivered the next morning. Gaston's

us actress, at a top OB-GYN clinic with Gaston, who

rfect, inescapable

h her because he was already h

aughn heir would be the one born to the woman he actually wanted. All the cruelty, all the coldness, all the publ

hin and sharp and utterly devoid of humor. It was the sound of a mind breaking. Tears streamed

" Chloe said, her hands hovering over H

another ghost: a sullen ten-year-old boy in the gardens of the Vaughn estate, reluctantly handing a piece of

the memory of that boy, believing that

ool she

gan to accelerate, the rhythm growing faster, more fra

-beep-bee

shrieked through the room. The

darkening. She was falling, tumbling into a black, airless void. The l

side the ICU where they had moved Helena. Her ha

a's new phone-the one Chloe had placed in the small bag of personal effects a nur

da Va

her own voice trembling. "Hello? Mrs. Vaughn? H

morning, with no trace of concern. "I am aware of

. "She almost died!

ock price," Matilda continued, as if Chloe hadn't spoken. "Gaston's affair

conscious!" Chloe cried, he

family does not tolerate weakness. And we do not support fre

ion behind the wo

Tomorrow night. Eight o'clock. The presidential suite at The Carlyle. A photographer from Vogue w

scious! You can't possibly a

the primary funding for St. Jude's Orphanage in Brooklyn comes from a Vaughn family charitable trust. A trust which

ne wen

ad nothing to do with the hospital's air conditioning. Tomorrow night. Helena couldn't even sit up. How was