Sabrina
A triumphant smile almost broke across my face.
I killed it before I turned around.
“You don’t have to humor me, Wendy,” I said softly. “Really. I know I ruined things.”
“Don’t be silly,” she sighed.
And there it was.
The crack in the door.
“Come inside.”
Nancy looked deeply unimpressed as Wendy added, “Could you bring us tea in the sunroom?”
The housekeeper’s mouth flattened, but she nodded stiffly.
I almost laughed.
—
Ten minutes later, we sat across from each other in the enormous sunroom.
Warm afternoon light spilled through the towering glass walls, painting gold across the velvet sofas and polished marble floors. Beyond the windows stretched endless manicured gardens blooming with absurd wealth and careful perfection.
The photo album lay open between us.
Wendy’
