father’s fortune had helped me build a business.
His warning had helped me expose betrayal.
But the person who reminded me that I was still worthy of respect had not been a director, a wealthy relative, or a glamorous fiancée.
She had been a woman kneeling on a cold marble floor, offering kindness when everyone else chose silence.
Mara sat beside me, her shoulder brushing mine.
‘What are you thinking about?’ she asked.
I looked toward the photograph of my father and then back at her.
‘That I spent years trying to recognize the important people in a crowded room.’
‘And?’
I reached for her hand.
‘Turns out, the important ones were the people willing to sit beside me when the room emptied.’
She squeezed my fingers.
Outside, the harbor lights flickered across the dark water.
And for once, I had absolutely nothing left to prove.
