Confrontation
Then I appeared in the library, alive and firm. The scar on my forehead was the only evidence of the sea attack.
Michael’s face paled. Evelyn’s eyes narrowed.
“You should be dead,” he whispered.
“And yet, here I am,” I said. “And this is my gift: freedom. Freedom from me, from the money you value more than family. Pack your bags tonight. By dawn, you’ll be gone from this house, my company, everything I have. You wanted me gone; now it’s your turn.”
