His Secret Son, Her Public Shame

t of my departure. My mother, Eleanor, fu

utiful, darlin

by, looking proud. "Rea

ce of their lives. I was the audience

spoken words. My mother placed a small bowl of soup in front of me.

lmond scent of the benzodiazepine mixed in. They d

ed at her, then at my father. "It means so much that you'

ok a spoonful of the soup. Then another. I ate half the bowl, my stomac

ad. "I' m feeling a little... dizzy. I think the

d, her concern a masterpiece of fic

to the powder room for a moment?"

rd urged. "We' l

arents. The people who were sup

slipping out before I could stop it. "For what

ere was a flicker of something in their eyes-

my father said, his voice a litt

didn' t press. I just

, I locked the door, knelt before the toilet, and forced myself to throw up, my body convulsing unti

s an act, but th

was waiting. He was dressed for the party, Kiera' s party, his

id, smiling. "To

at the bottom of my glass. A sec

"To us," I echoed, my voice light and airy. I let him th

he lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. "A

ampagne and, looking him directly in the eye, drank it al

e a quick kiss. He walked out the door wit

urged the champagne, my body shaking with the effor

living room, where a single, elegantly wrapped gift box

s over the years. "James," I said. "I have a package that needs to be delivered

onovan," he said,

ive, a small portable speaker,

s in full swing. I could see them all through the windows-Ivan, Kiera, Leo, m

ge from Debi. "Wheels u

their perfect, fake happiness. I felt nothing. N

creen shattering on the concrete below. I ha

he glittering mansion and walked toward the ai