He looked at my bag.
“Search that before she leaves,” he said. “We don’t need anything disappearing.”
For one hot second, I pictured myself standing, taking the hose from Vanessa, and turning it back on the people who found her behavior amusing.
I did none of those things.
Rage can make noise.
Power usually waits.
Fifty feet behind the Mitchells, through the mansion’s open glass doors, my son was speaking with business partners who had flown in from Dallas, Atlanta, and Chicago.
Ethan had no idea I was on the lawn.
That was deliberate.
People reveal themselves fastest when they believe there is no cost attached to what they do.
So I made a quiet decision.
I would attend the engagement celebration without the driver Ethan expected me to use.
I would wear ordinary clothes.
I would carry a canvas grocery bag.
I would arrive through the side lawn after asking a grounds worker which entrance led to the party.
