The car ride home felt longer than usual, though the city blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. Gigi leaned her head against the cool glass, her reflection fractured by streetlights. She had perfected the art of stillness in public, but alone—even with only a driver’s silent presence—her composure cracked at the edges.
Jonathan’s name on Jason’s phone replayed in her mind like an unwelcome refrain. She knew Jonathan Reed as a whisper, a shadow trailing her life, appearing in flowers at the gallery door, in anonymous notes tucked into programs at art shows. Gentle gestures, but unsettling in their precision.
Now his presence bled into Jason’s world. The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
“Ma’am, we’ve arrived,” the driver said softly.
She blinked, realizing they
