Something’s changed.
I can’t pin down what it is, but I can feel it bleed from both of us. We didn’t talk for the whole car ride, didn’t heave a single sigh. Nothing. We’d just looked straight ahead, unflinching.
It wasn’t focusing on the road that made us this way, and it’s not the extravagant decor of the room we now stand in either. Swaths of gossamer peek out from behind the heavy velvet curtains framing the window, and marble meets ruddy wood where the suite opens up to the bedroom. A chandelier catches what light the room grants us and sprays it back in kaleidoscopic patterns on the walls and our skin. Corinna clearly shelled out for this room, but I suppose money’s no object when it will soon do her no good. She can’t take money where she’s going.
Maybe that’s what’s changed. The
