Beatrice.
Nathaniel's text burned on my screen like an accusation: Information about why Adrian really married you. Information that changes everything.
I stared at those words until they blurred, my thumb hovering over the reply button. What information? What could possibly change anything when I was already pregnant with Adrian's baby, hiding in Panama under a fake name, and apparently being hunted by the very man I'd faked my death to escape?
What truth could be worse than the reality I was already living?
But even as I asked myself that question, ice slithered down my spine.
Because there was always something worse. Always another layer to the nightmare. Always one more secret waiting to destroy whatever fragile stability I'd managed to build
I typed back quickly: Tomorrow. Tell
