ossible by hard work and the Hayes Family Philanthropic Scholarship. A scholarship Seraphina Hayes, Julian Thorne's childhood friend, had apparently wante

a frantic text fro

amptons. Need O-neg blood. Only you. P

reckless on his sailboat.

lin at her dorm and ran, hailing a cab, her

expensive-looking, just

blood, more than Elara thou

ight?" Elara aske

o have you," the nurse

thought Julian. She had to se

short texts saying he was recovering. A knot of worry tightened in her stomach. She had to see him, make sure he

ut, Julian's distinct baritone mixed with the braying of

door open a littl

sign of any accident. On the coffee table, next to discarded food containers, was a me

ian, the blood bag was a bit much, eve

"Poured most of it down the drain, d

r nineteen, right?" Chad guffawed, slapping Julian's

led, his eyes glinting. "Seraphina will be plea

ember the locket? The

search Central Park in that blizzard for a fake? Pr

de masterpiece' you 'found' for her? The sound of a

ith contempt. "That ridiculous chicken costume. 'Artistic statement,' I told h

oared with

nt, his eyes cold and cruel as he basked in his friends' admiration. The sail

charity case, won the Hayes Family Philanthropic Scholarship. The one Seraphina considered her birthright. Little M

ving words, now felt like a carefully placed shard of glass. The blood donation, her fear, her sacrifice – it was all a joke to him. T

out of the apartment, out of the building, into the indifferent city streets. The laughter followed

rang. He

s. House is picked out. We'll be moving right after my official retirement ceremony next

voice was an an

he city felt like a cage, Julian's laughter the b

, solidified into an urgent need. New York, Juilliard, he