17 His mother leaned against the antique desk that was her pride and joy, brows drawn together — but not too tightly, because that might mess up her latest Botox injections. Even the matriarch of the Ludlow clan wasn’t above a little civilian intervention when it came to disrupting the aging process. “You mean to tell me that you had the healer in your hands, and you let him go?” she demanded. “Nice of you to think I had that much control over the situation,” Jason replied calmly. On the drive back from Lake Tahoe, he’d played as many possible variations of this conversation as he could think of over and over in his mind, and at the end of the exercise had concluded that he really didn’t give a s**t. He’d been disappointing Carolyn Ludlow his entire life, so why should he stop now? As h

