Easton
Arianna didn’t cry.
That worried me more than if she had.
She sat perfectly still in front of the laptop while the emergency channel exploded with messages, questions, accusations, and people demanding proof. Her aunt’s name remained on the screen, but Arianna wasn’t looking at it anymore. She stared at nothing, one hand trapped beneath mine so tightly her fingers had gone cold.
Her mother hadn’t died naturally.
That was what Helena had said.
Not maybe.
Not I suspect.
She’d said it like she knew.
Braxton shut the laptop before another message could come through.
The sudden silence felt almost violent.
Arianna blinked.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because you don’t need forty families screaming at you right now.”
“I need to know what she meant.”
“You will.”
Braxton pulled
