Luna’s POV
I grip my phone tightly, my fingers white as I look up dazedly, Beth is still at the table, humming to herself, oblivious, spoon scraping the last of the milk from her bowl. I turn the phone face-down against my leg on instinct, my heart hammering somewhere up near my throat.
An unknown woman. Not even my name. Just a vague mention of the possibility I work for him, making me easy to discard, easy to disbelieve, and somehow that single description makes it worse, makes me feel like I've vanished from my own life and become a prop in someone else's story about him.
I think of Ashton's hands that morning, steady, fast, nothing but instinct, and I think of how many people are about to look at this photo and see something else entirely. Something ugly. Something that could take h
