She no longer had the strength to play the obedient daughter.
Lynn Shea's chest rose and fell with anger, she shot her a fierce glare, then turned and strode toward the door.
——
After dinner, Vivian Sinclair stood at the kitchen doorway for a long time.
She stared at the pile of dishes in the sink and listened to the sound of running water echoing in her ears, before finally gathering up the courage to speak to Paige Yorke, who was wiping the table: "Melanie, I'm going next door for a bit."
Paige didn't even look up, her cloth still moving back and forth across the tabletop.
"Mm, I'll wash the dishes."
Vivian nodded and didn't say anything more, turning to walk out the door.
Tristan Sterling was wearing a black bathrobe.
As soon as the door opened, he was leaning lazily against the door frame.
The dim hallway light cast shadows on his profile, outlining deep, striking features.
"Finally willing to come find me?"
