Penelope POV
"Did you honestly think that pathetic little splash would break me?"
I do not blink. I look down at Hazel. She is dripping on the concrete edge of the Glory Hall pool. Her cheap mascara runs in dark, ugly tracks down her cheeks. She wants a reaction. She wants me to scream, to deny it, to look like the unhinged ex-girlfriend.
I give her nothing. My face is stone.
"Penelope, please," Hazel sobs. She turns her head toward Julian, her shoulders shaking with practiced precision. "She pushed me. You saw her. She wants me dead."
Julian steps between us. His massive frame blocks the midday sun, casting a long shadow over my shoes. His jaw is tight. A vein pulses in his neck. He smells like wet wool and cheap cologne.
"Step back, Penelope," Julian says. His voice is a low rumble
