The morning sun slanted in, harsh against the blue glow of her screen, but Eleanor's focus drifted far from the R Corporation rejection notes she had been scanning.
Instead, the penthouse scene replayed in loops. Sophia's hand on her abdomen, Julian's tentative grin, Vivian's barbed harvest quip glancing off her like rain on glass.
Pregnant. Eight weeks. The words echoed, not as a betrayal's knife, but a dull ache settling in her chest.
She leaned back in the ergonomic chair, fingers absently tracing the locket's chain around her neck.
the duplicate now a fixture, its twin with Calder's mystery she shelved amid the chaos.
There was no jealousy stirred for Sophia's place in Julian's orbit. Their bond had frayed beyond repair, her heart tethered elsewhere.
To Calder's quiet strength
