Chapter 3

The next day, we didn't fly to Cabo. We drove straight to the five-star Grand Marquis Hotel downtown. Dad had booked the grand ballroom here for his little "family Christmas" with Ava and Eddie. So thoughtful. So brazen. Like he never thought he'd get caught. I thought about the text he'd sent me that morning. Sebastian: Cabo's all set. The property manager will meet you at the airport. Have fun, you guys. I'll book the first flight out as soon as I'm done here. He'd even sent his own personal chauffeur to drive us to the airport—only to make sure we actually left town. Mom texted back with only two words. Mom: See you. But as soon as we hit the highway, Mom told the chauffeur to pull over. A black car we'd arranged was already waiting on the side road. No more playing along. Not after that day. We didn't go into the ballroom. We asked the hotel to set us up in the private lounge across the hall. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, we could see everything inside perfectly. It was almost midnight. Sure enough, Dad's black G-Wagen pulled up to the hotel entrance. Ava stepped out in a tailored Loro Piana suit, draped in a Hermès cashmere shawl. A Chanel camellia brooch pinned her hair back. She was practically glowing with happiness, like she was the real Mrs. Haleworth. The ruby pendant glinted under the crystal chandeliers like a stolen trophy. Dad's hand rested lightly on her waist as they walked in. They moved together like they'd done it a million times—easy, intimate, like they were a real family. The hotel manager was waiting at the ballroom doors, bowing low. "Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Haleworth! Your Christmas Eve dinner is all ready, as requested. The dessert bar is set, and we've adjusted the temperature and humidity to your preference." He called her Mrs. Haleworth without a second thought. Ava's cheeks pinkened. She accepted the greeting like she'd earned it, leaning over to whisper something to Sebastian. He smiled, soft and warm, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead, his voice low and tender. "It's cold out here. Let's go inside." As Ava adjusted her shawl, the ruby pendant slipped to the side. Sebastian reached out and tucked it back into place, his thumb brushing over the stone like it was something precious. He leaned in and murmured something in her ear. She laughed, soft and bright, and leaned her head on his shoulder. They walked into the ballroom pressed close together, like they were the only two people in the world. Mom and I watched it all from the lounge, silent. I remembered when Teddy was born. It was winter, just like this. Mom had placenta previa and hemorrhaged badly. Her heart stopped twice during surgery. The hospital issued two death warnings. The whole house was in chaos. I called Dad over and over, hysterical. His secretary kept stammering that he was in a critical merger meeting in New York. His phone was off, and he couldn't be reached. I sat outside the ICU all night, seeing Mom pale and alone inside, waiting for the sun to come up in that terrible, suffocating silence. Later, I pieced it all together. That night, Ava had a gallstone attack. She was in agony. Sebastian's "critical merger meeting" was sitting in that riverfront penthouse, making her soup and giving her medicine, staying up with her all night. My nails dug into my palms until they broke the skin. Rage burned cold in my veins, hot and sharp all at once. Midnight hit. Fireworks burst outside the windows, painting the sky bright red and gold. Inside the ballroom, dinner was served. The hotel manager fussed over them, smiling obsequiously. "Mr. Haleworth, Mrs. Haleworth—we had the chef prepare king crab and Chilean sea bass, flown in fresh this afternoon. For dessert, tiramisu, made exactly how you like it by our French pastry chef. Do let us know what you think." Other guests at nearby tables—wealthy socialites and business owners from the Westside, people who knew exactly who Sebastian was—started murmuring in admiration. "Mr. Haleworth is so humble. He does so much charity and never talks about it. Remember the Gulf Coast hurricane? He donated 50 million through his company, plus sent dozens of rescue boats and supplies on his own. "You don't see many businessmen like him these days—successful, generous, devoted to his family." The other tables nodded in agreement. "Haleworth Holdings really does set the standard for corporate responsibility." "Mrs. Haleworth seems so elegant. They're perfect together." "No wonder his company's so successful. Good values run in the family." The manager's smile grew wider. He bowed a little lower. "That's exactly right. A man with vision in business, love for his family, and care for the community—now that's a real leader." Sebastian sat there, nodding politely, that perfect, modest smile on his face. He took all the praise like he deserved it, like he was some kind of saint. The whole room was warm and festive, like a perfect Christmas postcard. I glanced over at Mom. Her face was calm, but her hand was clenched so tight around her phone her knuckles were white. I put my hand over hers, pressing gently. She took a deep breath, then gave me a thin, tight smile. Then she stood up, took my hand, and pushed open the lounge door. We walked straight into the ballroom. "Honey, I didn't catch that," Mom said, her voice clear and cool, cutting through the hum of conversation like a blade. "If this lady is your wife, then who am I?"