Maxime kept the secret for exactly three days. Technically, she didn't tell Chloe. She simply became terrible at lying. “You're being weird.” “I am not.” “You've checked your phone twelve times.” “People message me.” “You hate texting.” “I have friends.” Chloe looked at her mother. “Name three.” Maxime glared at her. They were standing in the kitchen of the new house surrounded by boxes. Chloe had spent most of the morning arguing with a delivery company about a table Damian had apparently paid enough for to deserve its own security detail. Maxime had barely spoken. That alone was suspicious. “What happened?” “Nothing.” “Mum.” “Nothing happened.” “Is this about Damian?” Maxime's expression changed. Tiny. Enough. Chloe put down her coffee. “What did he do?” “Nothing.” “Then what?” Maxime lo
