Chapter 2

I returned home the next evening with a hospital bracelet around my wrist.

Tristan arrived after eight, smelling of champagne and the cologne I had bought him for our anniversary.

His gaze dropped to the bracelet.

“You should have told me you were coming home.”

“You should have visited me.”

“The anniversary event couldn’t be canceled.”

“But my name could be removed.”

His expression tightened. “Not this again.”

“I want my credit restored before the investors see the final contract.”

“That isn’t happening. Lydia has already been announced as lead screenwriter. Changing it now would embarrass her and make the studio look unstable.”

“So humiliating me is acceptable?”

“You’re still a shareholder.”

“I’m the writer.”

“You were the writer,” he corrected. “Lydia will handle Glass House from now on.”

He dropped a folder onto the table.

“Finish the revisions by Friday. She needs them before the location meeting.”

“You erased my name and still expect me to do her work?”

“I expect you to stop treating every business decision as a personal attack.”

“You erased my name. It was personal.”

Tristan rubbed his forehead.

“We’ll talk when you can be rational.”

He walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

A phone vibrated inside his open briefcase.

His old studio phone.

Tristan used it for travel reservations and company accounts. He had kept the same passcode for years—the date we founded the studio.

I unlocked it.

Lydia’s name sat at the top of the messages. Most of the conversation had been deleted.

Three messages remained.

Lydia: I packed the purple dress—the one you chose for the anniversary.

Lydia: Are we still leaving for the coast on Thursday?

Tristan: Yes. Don’t tell Vesper about the location meeting. She’ll only make things difficult.

Below the messages was a hotel confirmation.

Bellmere.

Thursday night.

One room.

One king-sized bed.

The reservation also included access to a private Glass House verification meeting at the hotel on Thursday morning. Lydia Hale was listed as the project’s lead screenwriter.

Tristan was taking her to Bellmere to share his room and present my work under her name.

I photographed the messages, the hotel reservation, and the meeting confirmation.

Then I saved copies and forwarded everything to Evelyn.

I opened the airline app.

Tristan and Lydia were leaving for Bellmere on Thursday. The first flight that morning had one seat left.

I booked it.

Vesper Vance.

One passenger.

The confirmation appeared on my screen just as the bedroom door opened.

“Vesper?” Tristan called.

I returned his phone to the briefcase and locked my own screen.

He thought he was taking Lydia somewhere I would never know about.

He had no idea I would be there first.