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SLOANE
A Week Later
The past week had been a blur of long hours and relentless work. It was hard to get back on track but It was the best solution.
I had thrown myself into my world of designs, into perfecting every piece for the upcoming exhibition, and into the meticulous details of running my business.
It was easier this way—keeping busy meant I didn’t have to think. It meant I didn’t have to dwell on that night.
Keeping distance from everything other than my business had made my brother also start speaking to me again, though our conversations were nothing more than clipped exchanges about business.
Still, it was progress. It was better than that silent treatment which haunted me. The strained silence between us was slowly shifting, piece by piece, into something th
