~ Becca ~
I met Mrs. Hale again on a Tuesday afternoon I didn’t plan for.
I hated meetings I didn’t plan for.
Jace told me his mom wanted lunch. Casual. Her word, not his. When someone rich says casual, it usually means they already know everything about you and are just checking to see if you’ll flinch.
I didn’t flinch.
We went to this quiet restaurant with white walls and too much light. The kind of place where the menus don’t have prices and the waiters remember faces. Mrs. Hale was already there when we arrived, sitting straight, hands folded, eyes sharp but not cold.
She looked at me like she was taking inventory.
“Becca,” she said, standing. “I’m glad you could come.”
Her voice was smooth. Controlled. Not fake. Just practiced.
“Of course,” I said.
Jace leaned down and kisse
