Cont

vigil. When she saw me, something flickered across her face. Triumph, quickly suppressed under a mask of concern. But

toward him with the desperation of a woman wh

the kind who understood that wealthy families sometimes required delicate diagnoses. "Mr.

course. The next move in a game I was

. Please, don'

that pushed me to the rear. I let them. Better to enter l

was the right shade of pale. His eyes were the right shade of confused. The staging

. "Alex, darling. You

oked his hai

e. Standing alone at

mine for a different reason-I wanted to

ted. And then, in a voice I'd heard whis

ho are you? D

gnificent. A Moretti production, dire

r. "You see? He doesn't re

selective amnesia. The patient often forget

s. That was me. I

llapse. The tears. The screaming. The messy scene th

e been a scandal, and scandals drew attention. Attention drew questions. Questions about the Moretti family, about the Rossetti alliance, about all the things that happened

as managing me. Giving me a

o me-and then I saw it. A microsecond. A flicker. The look of a man who'd j

sn't

n't co

he only audience member who ha