Blakely family's favorite playground, a glittering spectacle
amonds parted before me. Whispers followed in my wake. They all knew about Annabe
Andrew, looking dashing in his tuxedo, w
resting possessively on his arm. Her son,
them, so happy, so untouched by the tragedy they h
y voice cutting thr
n he saw me. "Elyse. What are you
" I said, my eyes locked on Gab
, her expression shifting to one of sorrowful concern. "Oh, E
he corner of Annabel's favorite designer handbag-and a melted fragment of her credit card. The NTSB i
aid, holding it out. "A memento
draining of color. Gabrielle recoil
stammered. "What kind
ngerously low. "It's what's left of he
und to see who was watching. "You're trying to r
oulders shaking. "Andrew, she's
mbe dessert, a plate of crepes suzette with a high flame. With a supposed stumble, he "a
the credit card fragment, turning them to ash in a matter of seconds. I cr
oared, not at his nephew, but
backward, my heel catching on the rug, and fell
protecting Gabrielle and her son. "Get out," he sn
d. And in his eyes, I saw nothing. No love, no remorse, no humanity. Onl
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