I don't know what it is—guilt, curiosity, fear—but something gnaws at the back of my mind. A restlessness, a pressure behind my ribs. I've been trying to shake it since last night.
I lie on the guest bed again, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking. I want to ask mom about Noah. It's stupid. Or maybe not.
But ... did she ever meet him? Did their paths ever cross?
It's possible, right? If he worked at Evergreen Palace for long enough—if he was on the finance team, and mom came by the office sometimes—maybe they saw each other. Even briefly. Even in a hallway or a conference room or a gala where she stood far off, arms crossed, unimpressed.
But I'm not sure. Mom never wanted a role in the company. She always said the company felt like someone else's kingdom. Even when dad offered her a title—Chief Advisor, Head of Public Image, whatever—she turned it down and started her own business.
