“You did well,” he said.
I slipped my arms into the sleeves. The fabric felt heavy now, not protective so much as temporary.
Across the room, Jason was speaking urgently to Gregory Vale. His hands moved too much. Jason hated losing control of his hands. They revealed what his face tried to hide.
Madison stood apart from them, pale and rigid, her white dress suddenly seeming less like a declaration and more like a costume she no longer knew how to wear.
As Daniel gathered the documents, he leaned closer.
“We have about twenty minutes,” he said. “There’s a consultation room down the hall.”
I nodded.
But before we could leave, Madison stepped into my path.
Daniel stiffened.
“Iris,” she said.
The sound of my name in her voice made something old and bitter rise in me. I looked at her manicured hands, at the diamond bracelet Jason had bought with money he claimed did not exist, at the careful softness of her expression.
