Chapter 3

I picked a sunny afternoon to finalize my resignation at Whitaker Tower.

Standing beneath the towering glass facade in Midtown, I looked up. When I first started, this building had intimidated the hell out of me. Now? It was just a building.

From receptionist, to executive assistant, to administrative supervisor, and finally Operations Manager. I had watched hundreds of people come and go through those revolving doors.

Today, it was my turn to walk out.

In the elevator, a few colleagues were glued to their phones, but their peripheral vision was locked on me. The airport photos and the divorce rumors had already detonated in the private Slack channels. Me showing up to pack my desk was the final stamp of confirmation.

As I was boxing up my things, a sickly-sweet voice drifted over.

Brielle Dawson leaned against the cubicle wall, smirking.

"Nora, packing up all by yourself? Should've told me, I'd have expensed a TaskRabbit for you." She tilted her head. "Oh, by the way, the coffee shop downstairs is looking for a manager. Want me to put in a good word?"

Two junior girls nearby stifled a laugh.

I calmly unlocked my phone, pulled up my acceptance letter from the CUNY School of Professional Studies, and shoved the screen right in her face.

"Bachelor's in Public Administration, degree completion program. Classes start next week."

I held her gaze. "You remember the bidding war last quarter, right? The one where you almost got fired for gross incompetence? Are you sure you have the free time to worry about my career?"

Brielle's face cycled through three shades of red and white. She spun around and stalked off in her stilettos.

I carried my box out of Whitaker Tower. Standing at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change, I let out a long, cleansing breath.

I had barely settled onto my couch back at the condo when violent knocking rattled my front door.

I yanked it open. Grant stood there, his face thunderous.

"Camille's car was hit." His eyes bored into mine. "Did you do it?"

Rage spiked hot and fast in my chest.

"Are you out of your mind? I spent the entire afternoon at the office packing my desk!"

"Who else has a grudge against her?"

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was a vice, pressing painfully into my bone.

I yanked my arm back. "Let go of me! I didn't touch her!"

"Nora—"

"I said, let go."

He looked down at my rapidly reddening skin. He froze.

A second later, he released me.

I rubbed my wrist, glaring at him. "I will go to the hospital. I will clear this up to her face. But not because you have the right to drag me there."

Grant stayed silent for two agonizing seconds. His voice dropped. "...Fine. I'll drive you."

We pulled up to a private hospital on the Upper East Side.

The moment we stepped into the VIP suite, I saw Paige pacing the floor like a caged animal. When she heard the door, she gave me a quick nod, then turned to Grant with a stiff, terrified smile.

"Grant. I messed up." Her voice shook. "I hired someone to cause a low-speed fender-bender while you were walking through the parking lot. I thought... I thought seeing a crash might trigger your memory. I didn't know Camille was going to be in that car."

I stood frozen in the doorway.

Grant's face went lethally cold. "You did what?"

Paige's eyes welled with tears. "I know I crossed a line! I already told the lawyers, I'm cooperating with the police and the insurance. But I was just so scared you were going to go through with the divorce!"

She sniffled loudly. "When you married Nora, you didn't care about Dad's trust fund or the board pressuring you! You forgot everything, but when you get your memory back, you are going to hate yourself!"

I knew exactly why Paige was so fiercely loyal to me.

A year ago, she had been severely injured in a flood rescue operation, losing a massive amount of blood. She needed surgery, and her blood type required specific compatible red blood cells. The hospital contacted me. I passed the screenings and donated the blood that saved her life.

On the hospital bed, Camille was gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles were white.

Grant stood completely still for a long time.

Finally, he turned to me.

"...I was wrong." His eyes dropped to my bruised wrist. "I'm sorry."

I looked down at it and gave a hollow laugh. "How badly is Camille hurt?"

Grant turned his face toward the bed. He didn't answer.

Paige insisted on driving me home.

Two blocks away from the hospital, after a suffocating silence, she suddenly looked over at me.

"Nora, there's something I never told you."

"What?"

"My brother broke up with Camille because he caught her cheating on him."

I stared at her, stunned.

"After they broke up, he banned everyone from saying her name," Paige whispered. "He has amnesia now. He doesn't know. Can you please... just don't push the divorce through so fast?"

I leaned my head against the window, letting the information settle.

"Paige. Thank you for telling me."

Her eyes lit up. "So you'll stop the divorce?"

I sighed. "Me leaving your brother has nothing to do with Camille."

"Then why?" she asked, eyes wide.

I opened my mouth, then swallowed the words.

I couldn't exactly tell her that for three years, her brother and I had lived like two polite strangers sharing an address.