“But you were here the month before,” Alexander said.

“And you were the one who suggested she see a new doctor.”

“No,” Vivian said, shaking her head quickly. “That wasn’t my idea.”

“Then whose idea was it?” Alexander asked, his voice rising.

The wind battered the large glass windows behind Celeste.

A branch scraped against the pane, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Vivian clutched her handbag tighter to her chest.

“I was just trying to help,” Vivian whispered, her voice cracking.

“By bribing my staff to let you escape?” Alexander asked.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers.

“Tell me the truth, Vivian, or I will have the police here in ten minutes.”

“No police,” Vivian begged. “Please, Alexander. My family’s reputation.”

“Your reputation is already gone,” Alexander said.

Celeste walked slowly toward the fireplace, her heels clicking softly on the hearthstone.

“Vivian, perhaps you should calm down,” Celeste said, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy.

“You are making yourself look guilty.”

“Shut up, Celeste!” Vivian snapped, her panic turning into rage.

Celeste stopped walking, her expression hardening.