Céline:I’m not coming to you.
Vincent:Then I’m coming there.
My heart lurched.
Céline:Absolutely not.
Vincent:You can be furious when I arrive.
Céline:I said no.
Vincent:I heard you.
Céline:Then listen.
For a moment, nothing happened. My phone buzzed again.
Vincent:Send me the number he called from.
I stared at the message. I copied the number with stiff fingers and sent it before I could change my mind. Vincent did not reply immediately. Then another message appeared.
Vincent:Do not answer if he calls again.
Céline:I know that.
Vincent:Good girl.
I put the phone facedown on the bed. Then I stayed on the floor with Miss Astoria pressed against me until my breathing steadied enough to stand.
When I opened my bedroom door, Sophia looked up from the sofa immediately. Her expression changed before I said anything. Anya paused mid-sentence, oat milk apparently forgotten.
“What happened?” Sophia asked.
I leaned against the doorframe. For one second, I saw us years ago at the Harbour Club without being there for it. Sophia and Anya learning the worst of me and choosing silence. I probably didn’t deserve it, but Katherine had tried to use truth like a weapon, and they hated the hand that held it. They had chosen me before I knew they had a choice.
My throat burned.
“My father called,” I said.
Anya went completely still. “Your father,” she repeated.
I nodded once. The room shifted around the name. Miss Astoria pressed against my ankle, warm and solid. They knew what it meant. I had confessed it to them the night they told me about Katherine.
Sophia crossed the room and took my phone from the bed without asking. I let her.
Anya got up and locked the suite door, then checked the chain.
No questions yet. No panic. Just movement. Practical love.
It undid me more than the fear had.
Sophia returned and placed the phone on the coffee table.
“Sit down,” she said, and I obeyed without thought.
27
Céline
