CAMILE
Disbelief surged through me, hot and very much defensive.
Of course, I didn’t believe what I was hearing. This had to be some jealous ex's fabrication.
Right?
"Excuse me,” I pushed my chair back, the scrape loud in the quiet corner. “I think you've got the wrong person. I have to go."
I stood, heart pounding, already halfway to convincing myself I’d imagined the entire conversation.
But as I rose, Mira's hand shot out, sliding a glossy print across the table.
"Wait. Look at this."
I froze, my eyes dropping to the image. It was dim, shadows playing across the scene, but unmistakable. Mira in the back of a sleek black SUV, her head thrown back in ecstasy, lips parted on a silent moan.
Arlo on her left, his hand buried between her thighs, fingers visibly thrusting into her
