Here’s what we’re going to do,” Marcus said firmly. “Tell me where you are. Once you’re done, I’ll come pick you up myself. We’ll go to Mother and Maddy together, settle this properly, and clear up whatever misunderstanding there is.”
To him, it sounded perfectly reasonable—measured, even responsible.
On the other end of the line, Elena nearly laughed aloud.
Not because it was funny, but because of how effortlessly he had already decided what “truth” looked like.
After a brief pause, she did not refuse. Nor did she agree.
Instead, she casually sent him an address.
One that sat deliberately on the far side of the city.
Then she ended the call.
Only after the line went dead did she set her cutlery down with quiet precision. She picked up a linen napkin and gently dabbed at her lips,
