Arthur led me to a private lounge above the afterparty. The room overlooked the city, and the closed door cut the music to a low thump.
He poured water and set the glass near my uninjured hand.
My fingers still shook when I lifted it.
Arthur picked up a tablet. “The story is moving fast. I can turn this off if you don't want to see it tonight.”
For four years, Julian had never waited for my answer. Arthur did. The glass clicked against the table when I set it down.
“Show me.”
He angled the screen toward me.
A major news outlet was running a split-screen report.
On the left, Serena stood on the Thorne Enterprises stage in a badly fitted version of the Starlight Gown. The seams pulled across her waist and shoulder.
A reporter held out a microphone. “Could you explain the cantilevere
