The red tulip sat on the desk like a silent threat.
Grace couldn’t take her eyes off it. Her chest rose and fell in shaky breaths. The letter opener trembled in her hand, catching the dim light every time her fingers twitched. Across from her, Damien stood like he had all the time in the world. Calm. Like they were old friends catching up. Not predator and prey.
“You remember tulips, right?” His voice was soft, too soft. “Your mom loved them. Red ones. Just like this.”
Grace’s jaw clenched. Her grip tightened on the letter opener. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” He tilted his head like a child pretending to be confused. “Talk about Elise? About how she used to braid your hair while telling stories? Or how she’d make us hot chocolate when I stayed over?”
“Stop.” Her voice cracked.
He stepped c
