“Simple is such a tired word, don’t you think?” she cut me off, her tone now as sharp as a diamond glass-cutter. “My concept is much more… appropriate. By the way, I’ve invited some of Ryan’s oldest circle. Melissa will be there. You remember Melissa, don’t you? Such a darling girl. She’s been like a second daughter to me.”
The room seemed to lose oxygen. Melissa. Ryan’s ex-fiancée. The woman Patricia still treated like the “one who got away,” the gold standard against which I was perpetually measured and found wanting.
“That’s… thoughtful,” I managed to choke out.
“Of course it is. Get your sleep, Ensley. You look quite haggard on our Zoom calls lately.”
The line clicked shut. A dead, hollow dial tone filled the silence.
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