Twenty eight years ago…
Celeste could barely hear the voices of the people milling around her, men and women dressed in tailored suits and shimmering gowns. In one hand she held the stem of a wine glass and in the other she clutched a folded note in her fist. It had already been a week since she discovered it but the burning sting of betrayal still lingered.
The folded piece of paper had fallen out of Dominic's shirt pocket as she was about to toss his dirty clothes into the laundry hamper. Celeste had bent down to pluck it off the floor and out of curiosity, she read through its contents. Her heart had gotten stuck in her throat and it got increasingly harder to draw in breath. Her hands had shook so hard that the paper— the letter— had slipped from her grip and fluttered to the floor.
The words were written in her cousin's elegant scrawl and as though that wasn't enough indication of who the letter was from, Claudia had signed her name at the bottom.
