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Cassia felt foolish answering that question. She wasn’t sure

how old Adalynn was, but obviously older. Obviously legal

drinking age.

“I’ve been drinking wine for a long time.” It was true. She

and her sisters had been given wine frequently with meals

since they were in their early teens.

“Tell me about your family. You left, but what were they

like? Were they awful?” Adalynn seemed to have no fear when

it came to asking personal questions.

Cassia knew she didn’t have to answer. She knew she

couldn’t say too much, even if she did. She found herself

talking, like she had the other night, as if Adalynn drew the

words from her with some magical force.

She had to close her eyes as the pain overcame her at

thinking about her mother. Cassia had been so young when her

father had murdered her. All those years she’d believed he’d

cherished her, but the man loved no one but himself.

“My family was, uh, complicated,” she said softly. “My dad

was involved in…well, he was a businessman. He was very

rich, but he was controlling. He made me and my two older

sisters go to private school. We had a driver. Bodyguards for

when we went out, which was hardly ever. We did everything

our father wanted because he was the kind of man you didn’t

say no to.”

“Jesus,” Adalynn hissed. “What about your mom?”

The pain was back, like salt sprinkled liberally in a raw,

fleshy wound that would never heal. “She passed away when I

was little.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cassia forced a brave smile. She was used to putting on a