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He sighs, and I hear Paris whispering something. “Is it true?”

I saunter to the kitchen in search of coffee. “Is what true?”

Finn growls. “What the fuck, Bambi? Cormac fucking Quinn?”

I freeze. What does he know? What is he talking about?

When I say nothing, Finn snorts. “I guess congratulations are in order, but somehow I can’t fucking find the joy in the announcement.”

The morning—afternoon—bliss fades as quickly as a trending post on social media. How does Finn know? I don’t want to disappoint my brother, but I guess it’s too late for that.

“Are you mad?” My voice comes out hoarse. Shit, this is not the right question to ask.

Finn utters another heavy sigh. This one stretches over the phone line and falls right into my stomach like a lead ball.

“I’m shocked, I guess. Has he bullied you again somehow? Saar, you don’t have to do this. How did it even—”

“It’s not real,” I blurt out.

“I would hope so,” he snaps.

“Finn.” I hear Paris’s voice. She must be standing beside him, calming him, and probably worried about my sanity. Shit.

“Can we talk about this in person?” I hate how small my voice sounds.

“Where are you? I didn’t even know you were in New York. What’s going on, Saar?” There is concern in his voice.

A genuine concern.

For a teenage girl whom he found bleeding on the floor in the bathroom. A girl who grew up into a woman who still craves his attention. Who still craves to be seen.

For a woman who is an adult now and should stand up for herself.

“Look, Finn, I’m okay. Everything is fine. Why don’t we have dinner together, perhaps with Cal as well, so I don’t have to explain twice?”

‘Not that I owe you an explanation’ is on my tongue, but I swallow the words, because I don’t really have the moral ground to suggest that. He assumed something all those years ago, and I never corrected him.

My lie impacted his life two years ago when he acted on his misplaced hatred, and it almost cost him his wife, so I owe him an explanation at least.

“Where are you?” he growls again.

“I’m staying at my friend Cora’s before I move in with Corm.” I shiver at the idea.

How did I end up here? Damn Maria for stealing from me. And my grandfather for setting up a trust fund like it was the eighteenth century.

Finn sighs. Again. How much of his disappointment can I take? “But you’re okay? Safe?”

“Yes, Finn, I’m okay. I’m sorry you found out… How did you find out?”

I put him on speaker so I can make my coffee. But I change my mind and open the fridge and take out a bottle of Chardonnay instead. It’s 5 p.m. already, after all.

“What do you mean, how did I find out? You and yourfiancéissued a statement.” The word fiancé probably triggered his gag reflex.

I pour myself a generous glass. Fucking Quinn. He promised me a week. To adjust. To tell my brothers.

Why did I tell Celeste the real reason for the marriage? If I pretended the engagement story was real, I wouldn’t need to explain the money to my brothers. But with everything going on and with my insomniac brain, I didn’t think this through.

“I didn’t realize we were announcing today. I’ve been jetlagged, and I just… I finally slept well. I wanted to tell you first, but…”