After she left the Hale Estate, Eira skipped going home.
She Ubered to a little Italian spot she'd never been to, the kind of place with checkered tablecloths and candles stuck in old wine bottles. Nothing about it screamed the Hales. That was the whole appeal.
She ordered whatever she wanted for once. Truffle pasta, a glass of Chianti, tiramisu for dessert. No rush. No one to report back to.
Her own private little party of one.
Back home, she showered, threw on an old T-shirt, and set the dissolution certificate on her nightstand like a trophy. Lights off. Lay down.
The apartment was dead quiet. Quiet enough she could hear herself breathing.
She closed her eyes. Waited for sleep.
Didn't happen.
Her brain wouldn't shut up. Old memories kept looping, tangled up wit
