window, watching the manicured lawns and towering gates

tion and grief so profound it stole her breath washed over her. She curled into a ball on t

d in her hand.

om Kisha

Jude is mine. You'd better disappear from New York and never come b

back of her hand, her grief hardening into a cold, sharp anger. She

rror, his expression concerned. "Miss? Are y

ddress of a modest, older apartment building in the city

silent living room, turning the cold j

f loss, heavy and suffocating, settled over him. He felt as if he had misplaced something

ft and wounded. "Jude, please don't be angry

nd of her voice. It was like a grating noise that scrambled his thoughts. His own voice became da

report on Ms. Franklin's recent financial activity. And I want every single m

face tur

o his study and shut the door, leavi

, Joslyn's phone rang. Not a

read: Cla

, then answered, her voice

through the line. "Anna. You do

last of her defenses crumbled. A fresh w

firm and reassuring. "Good. Leaving that man is the best thing t

s, and he instructed he

up, his tone shift

re's somet

ed from that fire

ath caught i

showing a

neurologists are optimistic. They

r fingers clenched around the ph

ng years, was the truth