I push it open.
Bennett looks up immediately, something in my face registering before I even speak. He’s already moving toward me, already reaching for me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation.
The contact breaks something loose.
“Someone—someone left something in my car,” I manage, my voice catching, splintering. “I think… I think someone is stalking me.”
The words barely make it out before the tears come harder, heavier, stealing the rest of what I was trying to say.
Because the truth is worse than that.
This isn’t just someone watching me.
This is someone who knows me.
Knows the things I buried.
The things I never said out loud.
And now—they’re bringing them back.
One piece at a time.
Chapter Thirteen
Tonight is the night!
Whitney’s excitement leaps off the page before I even settle into the entry.
Mom is being INSANE—but I guess I shouldn’t expect anything less. She’s orchestrating every detail, from the donation that got us in the door to the hotel, brunch, and the ballgowns. And brunch was amazing. McCullough and I got to spend time with our escorts, and they are such gentlemen. I cannot wait to see them tonight—all dressed up, looking like the most handsome men in the room.
A faint smile touches my lips despite everything.
Mom secured us a table near the grand staircase so she can get the perfect photo when we walk down. I swear she might be more excited than I am.
I can picture it perfectly—Veronica’s precision, her obsession with optics, the way everything had to be just so.
McCullough doesn’t seem excited at all. Actually, she seems… off. When her dress arrived, I swear I saw tears in her eyes—and she didn’t even try it on. Who doesn’t try on a dress like that? She’s insane, but I love her for it.
My throat tightens.
She’s a good reminder that Naples isn’t the center of the universe. Sometimes I get so caught up in the drama here that I forget there’s real shit happening outside of it.
The honesty in that lands heavier now than it ever did then.
I’m a little worried she’s going to bail at the last minute. She’s been quieter than usual, more withdrawn. This life isn’t for her. Honestly… I don’t think it’s for me either. I just like watching it all unfold from the inside. Like a front-row seat to something absurd.
I exhale slowly, my fingers tightening slightly on the page.
Also, Mom insisted I participate, so it’s not like I had much of a choice.
That part hadn’t changed.
McCullough has no idea she’s saving me tonight. Having her there—someone to roll my eyes with, someone who sees through all of this—will make it bearable. Otherwise, I’d be trapped in my mother’s world and the other debutantes’ endless nonsense.
A pause.
And maybe she’ll actually get to know Stephen a little better. A debutante ball as a first date… can you imagine? It’s kind of romantic.
