“What is all this?”
“Your friends are sending their condolences.”
“I . . . I don’t have any friends.”
He gave her a strange look, lips pulled to the side and his brows bending in a sort of question mark.
“Sure you do. Don’t be silly. Eat something and I’ll help you read the cards. A lot of them are in
cursive.”
“Because they don’t know I can’t read, because they don’t know me. Lucian, who sent all this and
why?”
His head tilted like he didn’t understand her confusion. “They’re from people who care about you,
Evelyn. These cards were written with one thought. They all hope you’re doing okay. There wasn’t
room for thoughts about script or anything else. Trust me, they were all sent out of love.”
Lucian was the only person to ever give her flowers. Now she was being bombarded with them. The
sentiment was unfamiliar and slightly embarrassing. She didn’t want people to worry about her.
He brushed a hand over her knee peeking through the slit in her robe. Her fingers picked at the
French toast as he plucked a card from a spray of yellow roses. There were still flecks of dirt under her nails and she lost her appetite.
“This one is from Antoinette and Shamus. Evelyn, it is with great sympathy for your loss that our
heavy hearts are quiet today. May the love of those closest to you hold you tight and get you through.”
He plucked up another card from a vase of tulips. “This is from Dugan. Ms. Evelyn, It is only
because you are so brave that I know you will get through this difficult time. Have the courage to cry and know that you are loved by many. If there’s anything I may do to help, I’m always near. D.”
Her lips trembled. They were from friends. Friends she never realized she had. Lucian read one card
after another. There were flowers from Seth, Lucian’s assistant; Patrice and the girls at the salon;
Raphael and the others who worked in the kitchen of the hotel; Tamara, her old general manager;
Nick, from Clemons; Parker; Isadora; Dr. Sheffield; Jason, her tutor; several people Lucian introduced
her to at events; and even one bouquet from Slade Bishop. She never felt so much affection and care.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “This is . . . incredible. How did they all know?”
“You’ve been sleeping for nearly two days. I had to let people know where I was and that I’d be
unavailable for some time.”
“Why?”
“Evelyn, you just lost your mother. There’s no way I’d leave you at a time like this.”
“Lucian, where is Pearl? Dugan said—”
“Don’t worry about the details. A private service is scheduled for tomorrow. The arrangements are
handled. I don’t want you to stress about any of that.”
“What kind of service? Like a funeral?” Her people didn’t have funerals. If they were lucky,
someone identified them at the county morgue.
“Of course.”
More flowers came throughout the day. Evelyn remained quiet. She felt like an outsider looking in.
The dragon had finally swallowed Pearl whole and Evelyn, selfishly, existed without purpose.
A nagging urge for motion teased at her nerves all day. She should be moving, thinking, going, but
all she could manage was breathing. They watched a movie and when Lucian’s wrist started bothering
him, she forced him to take the prescribed pain medicine Dr. Sheffield had provided. He was a terrible
patient.
Her head rested upon his shoulder as he softly twirled the ends of her hair. Her foot was elevated on
a delicate little pillow, and suddenly it was all funny. A jagged giggle escaped her throat and turned
into a hiccup, which evolved to a full-on belly laugh.
Lucian twisted as much as his bruised ribs would allow and gave her a questioning look. “You
okay?”
Covering her face with her palms, her skin heated. Why was she laughing? “I’m sorry. I know it
isn’t funny. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
His expression slowly lifted with cautious concern. She was losing it. Her sides ached as giggles
prattled from her mouth like champagne bubbles rising to the top. Sighing, she tried to get hold of
herself, but the sigh burst into more inappropriate laughter.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing. Look at us. We’re a mess and my mom’s funeral is
tomorrow. I think . . . I’m nervous.”
“Don’t apologize. Sometimes we just need to laugh. What are you nervous about?”
“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. I don’t know what to do now.”
His brow knit. Soft purple flesh darkened and she sobered. He was hurt. Her laughter fell away like
autumn leaves lost in the wind. She was hysterical.
“No one expects you to do anything, Evelyn. We all just want to see you get through this.”
“And then what?” she scoffed. “Then what, Lucian? I’ve never allowed myself to truly think outside
of protecting Pearl. I’ve never left the city other than to visit the estate with you. I’ve never thought more than a day or two ahead. I don’t know how to let go of the weight that’s been on my shoulders