“EIGHT MONTHS AFTER OUR DIVORCE, HE INVITED ME TO HIS WEDDING—BUT HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT I’M ABOUT TO BRING

have married the quiet one,” she whispered. “She didn’t know where the bodies were.”

My blood turned cold.

Damon turned toward me. “Mia. We’re leaving.”

“No.”

“Mia.”

I couldn’t move.

My father’s face surfaced in my mind. His warm hands. His careful smile. The way he had looked at Adrian across dinner tables, polite but observant.

Something I had buried for continue reading …