Emma barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Voss's text message burned into her retinas.
Things about Emma Laurent's past that Alexander doesn't know.
What could he possibly have found?
Emma had told Alexander about Jake—the abuse, the restraining order, all of it. She'd told him about her parents dying when she was twelve, about raising herself with Grandma Rose's help, about the financial struggles that led her to accept the contract marriage.
What was left?
Then, at 4 AM, it hit her.
The summer she was nineteen.
Emma sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing.
God. She'd completely blocked it out. Hadn't thought about it in years. Had convinced herself it didn't matter, that it was ancient history, that it had no bearing on who she was now.
But if Voss had found out—
"Emma?" Alexander stirred beside her, his voice rough with sleep. "What's wrong? Why are you awake?"
