“Maya, it’s been too long,” she said.
I almost laughed.
Too long was what people said when they wanted to skip over why the silence started.
Too long was easier than saying, “I let my new husband turn this house into a place you could not breathe.”
But I did not laugh.
I had spent enough years in rooms where one careless sound could change the temperature of an entire operation.
I simply said, “What do you need?”
There was a pause.
Then came the sigh.
“Just dinner,” she said. “One normal dinner. Silas wants to make peace.”
Silas Vane never wanted peace.
He wanted witnesses.
