Chapter 10 - Walking into the Light
I took Caroline’s hand. We turned our backs on Richard Vance, on the grand dais, on the five hundred stunned faces of Charlotte’s elite, and began the long walk toward the ballroom exit.
Julian Thorne walked beside us, his imposing silhouette shielding us from the flashing cameras of the local society press who had suddenly surged forward, smelling the greatest scandal of the decade.
"Get out of the way," Julian commanded the reporters, his tone low and chilling. The photographers practically threw themselves backward to clear our path.
As we pushed through the heavy mahogany double doors, Richard’s desperate screams echoed from inside the hall.
"Security! Arrest that man! Evelyn! Evelyn, don't you dare walk out on me!"
The doors swung shut, cutting his voice off mid-screech.
The hotel lobby was cool and serene, oblivious to the earthquake that had just shattered the world inside. The valet brought Julian’s car around to the private side entrance—a sleek, armored black Bentley that hummed silently in the rain-washed Charlotte night.
The driver held the rear door open. Caroline climbed in first, collapsing against the plush leather seats with a ragged, shuddering sob of pure relief.
Before I stepped into the car, I paused under the glow of the portico lantern and turned to Julian. The night air was clean and cold, smelling of rain and fallen autumn leaves. For the first time in twenty-six years, my lungs didn't feel constricted.
"Thank you, Julian," I said, using his first name for the first time. "Not just for the hospital. For... reminding me who I was."
Julian looked at me, his gaze softening into something profound, almost protective. "You never lost yourself, Evelyn. You were merely waiting for the right moment to claim your life back. Where can my driver take you?"
"To my sister’s house in Asheville," I replied. "I need to breathe mountain air. I need to be somewhere where the name Vance means nothing."
"A wise choice," Julian said, offering a rare, gentle smile. He reached into his coat pocket again and produced a second, smaller envelope, sealed with red wax. He placed it carefully into my gloved hand.
May you like
"What is this?" I asked, looking down at the heavy paper.
"That," Julian said, his voice dropping into a register that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, "is the rest of the truth. What happened tonight in that ballroom was only the beginning."
