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