ANNA'S POV
The house was waiting for me to fall apart. I went out to the garden instead.
The white roses had gone leggy, dead at the tips. I knelt in the dirt and cut the dead wood away, and the thorns went into my fingers, and I kept cutting. I didn't mind.
Footsteps on the path. I knew them before she spoke.
Lucy stopped at the edge of the garden, arms crossed.
"I heard about last night," she said.
"Everyone heard about last night."
She tilted her head. "You're taking it better than I expected."
I kept cutting. "What did you expect?"
"Tears. A tantrum. You, packing your bags." A beat. "And here you are pruning roses."
"I like roses."
She went quiet. Then she came closer, until she stood over me.
"Felicia won't stop," she said. "You know that. She wants him. She's always wante
