The Fortress at the Graveside

as I walked toward his suite. I reached for the door, smiling like an idiot.

Then I smelled it.

Gardenia.

Not fresh. Overapplied. Lingering.

It was not my scent.

I pushed the door open.

The bag slipped from my hand. Noodles spilled across the floor, steam rising uselessly between me and the truth unfolding on the leather sofa.

Vanessa didn’t move.

She didn’t continue reading …