Grace’s POV
I already knew tonight would be the first of many I’d come to dread.
The air around the dining table was thick, mostly with my own tension. My stomach was in knots, my appetite nonexistent, but I still sat there, pushing food around my plate like I wasn’t coming apart inside.
I wasn’t even sure what I had planned to say to Hunter in the study before dinner when I called his name. It wasn’t like I could tell him what I saw. Helena would deny everything, and I had no proof. I should have taken a damn photo.
Across from me, Helena swirled her wine lazily, completely at ease, like nothing in the world could touch her. She was lost in her own world, laughing softly at some story only she found interesting. It cut through the silence smooth, perfect, like her. But she wasn’t perf
