“Freddie, wanting to talk. We haven’t spoken in over seven months, and now he wants to
talk,” I confessed, which was the last time he and my brothers got into it at a family dinner.
Supposedly, he was talking to the press about us getting married, and that was news to me when I
never expressed I wanted to get married or have kids right now. The flight attendant came around
with drinks and a tray of snacks from fruit to breakfast sandwiches and muffins. My stomach
growled.
“Do you plan on talking to him?” Reece asked, taking a bottle of water from the
stewardess.
“Can I get a towel and toothbrush?” I needed to freshen up before I ate.
“Of course,” Evelyn, the flight attendant, said.
She’d been a part of the longtime flight team for Cyrus, along with George, her husband.
