The invitation arrived as casually as a sigh.
At breakfast, Vanessa sipped her tea, eyes serene, lips curved in that endlessly pleasant smile. “I’ve been thinking,” she began, setting her cup down with delicate precision. “We should take a little trip. Just the three of us. A weekend away.”
The spoon clattered from Sierra’s hand. “A…..what?”
Vanessa’s gaze flicked to her daughter, calm and unyielding. “A weekend at the lake house. It’s been years since we’ve gone together. And I think… It’s time.”
Sierra’s heart plummeted. The lake house. Remote. Isolated. Walls too thin, rooms too close. No neighbors, no distractions.
A prison disguised as a retreat.
Damien’s face didn’t change. He simply reached for his coffee. “If that’s what you’d like, Vanessa.”
She smiled, radiant, triumphant.
