"What?"
"A divorce. From Kieran. I told him tonight."
My voice sounded strange to my own ears. Distant. Like I was listening to someone else speak from very far away.
"So you can stop now. Whatever this is, whatever you're doing—you can stop. You win."
For a moment, she just stared at me.
"You're lying."
"I'm not. Ask him."
Her composure was cracking. I could see it in the way her fingers tightened around her bag strap, the slight tremor at the corner of her mouth.
"He'll find another wife. Probably you." I leaned back against the pillows. The thin fabric was cold against my neck. "That's what you've always wanted, isn't it? Mrs. Kieran Ashcroft. The penthouse, the private jets, the Hamptons house."
Her jaw tightened.
"Camilla."
My eyelids were heavy. The medication. The monitor
