Worse.
Recognition.
“Send her away,” he said.
“She’s already in the building.”
The elevator chimed.
I turned as a woman stepped into the penthouse like she had never once been denied entrance anywhere in her life.
She was beautiful in a way that felt preserved rather than lived in. Cream coat, pearls, silver-blond hair swept into a perfect knot. Her eyes were the same shape as Adrian’s, but where his were ice, hers were polished steel.
“Darling,” she said. “You’re becoming difficult to reach.”
Adrian stood motionless. “You weren’t invited.”
“No mother should need an invitation.”
Her gaze slid to me.
I felt assessed, priced, and dismissed in a single glance.
“And who is this?”
“No one,” Adrian said.
The word struck harder than I expected.
I lifted my chin. “Mara Coleman.”
His mother smiled.
Not kindly.
“Evelyn Park.” She extended a gloved hand.
I did not take it.
Something about her made the warmth in my palm turn cold.
Evelyn’s smile widened by a fraction. “How wise.”
Adrian stepped between us. “Leave.”
“I came because Victor called.”
The name hit the room like a dropped blade.
Adrian’s shoulders stiffened.
Evelyn noticed. Enjoyed it.
“He says you’ve been asking questions about the accident again.”
“I’ve been asking questions for twelve years.”
“And answers have not helped you.”
“They helped someone.”
Her eyes flickered.
There. A crack.
I saw it because I had spent my life watching faces for danger—landlords, bosses, doctors, bill collectors. Rich people thought their expressions were subtle. They were not. They simply expected no one beneath them to look closely.
Evelyn turned toward the windows. “This city always did make you sentimental.”
“I’m not sentimental.”
“No. You collect broken things and call it strategy.”
Her gaze returned to me.
This time, Adrian moved fully in front of me.
A strange thing happened then.
The penthouse, cold as it was, no longer felt empty.
It felt like a battlefield.
Evelyn’s voice softened. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”
Adrian said, “Neither do you.”
For the first time since entering, Evelyn looked truly interested.
Then she laughed.
“My God,” she murmured. “You felt her.”
The silence after those words was enormous.
My skin prickled.
Adrian did not answer.
He did not have to.
Evelyn’s eyes fixed on me, bright and hungry. “How extraordinary.”
“Mrs. Park,” I said, “I don’t know what family drama I accidentally walked into, but I have dishes to wash and a grandmother in intensive care, so whatever this is, leave me out of it.”
“You are already in it, Miss Coleman.”
Adrian’s voice cut through the room. “Enough.”