Chapter 27

Before boarding, Victoria sent a text to Stein, letting him know she was heading back. She didn't explain why-just said she had something to take care of.

McNeil sat beside her, thoughtfully draping a blanket over her shoulders.

"Get some sleep. We've got a long flight ahead," he murmured.

Victoria replied with a quiet "Mm," nestling into her seat.

As Victoria drifted off, McNeil pulled out his phone and turned it on. Instantly, a message from Violet popped up on the screen.

Reading that something had happened to Gwyneth made McNeil's heart leap into his throat.

With Victoria right next to him, he couldn't very well reply to Violet openly. He waited until she was fully settled, then, when she wasn't looking, typed a quick

response:

"What happened?"

Violet had been up all night, staring at her phone, waiting for any word from him. It wasn't until half past eight the next morning that McNeil's message finally arrived. The moment she saw it, tears spilled onto her screen.

She wanted to call him, but thought better of it. Instead, she replied with another text:

to eat something nice with us, and even asked if we could go to the amusement park. But I'm not well enough to take her... Poor thing, always stuck at home with me. McNeil, please

the message, saw that it wasn't an emergency, and didn't reply. After

"Is Victoria with you?"

Sure enough, Victoria was bundled up under

flight-so early, in fact, that it was still dark when the car

few taps of his slender fingers, McNeil responded:

won't message you again. We'll wait for you at

bother to

flight, he got up to

screen was still lit up. They say

read online: No woman ever comes away smiling after

sweet nothings for hours- swearing nothing had ever happened with Violet, vowing that once her health stabilized, he'd cut Violet out of his life for

know if she

a new message flashed on his

hesitated, but finally reached for it. To her

hands, she tapped

appeared on the screen-a pendant, one that looked just like her mother's. But on closer inspection, she realized it was only a near-perfect imitation, crafted from

image minimized, a new line of text

for the gift. I

I can't believe you remembered what I

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