tears had dried, leaving her eyes gritty and her face stiff. Crying was a luxury she couldn't afford. She forced her ach

e screen lit up with a picture of her mother, Eleanor

ing to keep her v

ou speak with him? Did you talk to Aloysius about the company? The

undid Izora. "This was your grandfather's life'

s my child's life in return. But the words caught in her thr

managed, the lie tasting like

d Izora's spirit, leaving her feeling utterly alone. She walked like a ghost back to her bedroom, a part of the house designed to look lik

g day-a cold, sterile affair in a judge's chambers with more lawye

to a dark room. A soft

d in the doorway, his face as impassive

ctful but devoid of warmth. "Mr.

e, printed on the heavy, watermarked stationery of the Lawson family's

eduled. Two days from now. Nine in the morning. Cedar Creek Private Medical Center. They had even attached the resum

ly. He hadn't wasted a second. H

hurled the folder at the wall. The

r voice a low snarl. "Tell him

. "My only task was to deliver the documents, Mada

wasn't a home; it was a prison, and he was o

ver the toilet. She gripped the cold marble sink, staring at her pale, haunted r

to save

d from the depths of her

w, the Lawson appendage. He was also, she knew, one of the few men in New

ross the calendar. A tech industry charity gala. Tonight. At the Metropolitan Museum of Art. J

m filled with designer gowns she rarely wore. Tonight, she needed more than a dress.

air, now held a glint of steely

ing the house line for the garage.

car ready. I'm