~ Becca ~
I knew something was wrong the second Brielle pushed away alcohol.
That alone should’ve set off alarms.
Because Brielle never said no to anything that made her feel wanted. Drinks. Attention. Validation. Other people’s men. If it sparkled or stroked her ego, she swallowed it whole.
So when she took one polite sip of champagne at Mrs. Hale’s charity brunch and then set the glass down like it personally offended her, my brain went, Oh. f**k.
I didn’t even need to look closer. What I suspected was already true.
Still, I watched.
The brunch was peak Hale bullshit. Crystal glasses, beige women pretending they cared about cancer research, Stephen sitting at the head of the table like he owned oxygen. Lydia clung to his arm like a territorial raccoon. Jace sat across from me, kne
