Vivian’s face was pale, her mouth opening and closing like a child caught doing something bad.
Damian’s words cut through the air like a blade.
“Vivian. Your scar. It’s gone.”
For a beat, silence stretched.
Then Vivian laughed. The sound was too high, too fake. Or maybe I’ve gotten used to her being a queen of manipulation so literally everything about her to me is fake.
“What are you talking about?”
“You used to have a scar on your right leg,” Damian said, his voice low, his brows furrowed as if he was replaying memories. “From the accident. The night I—”
He stopped himself, jaw clenching.
My heart thudded. Accident? What accident.
Vivian’s lip trembled. “Of course I still have it. Look!”
Before anyone could stop her, she hiked up the hem of her soaked dress, baring her left le
