The fertility clinic smelled like antiseptic and broken dreams. Camille sat in the waiting room, flanked by Nicholas on one […]

The door at the end of the hallway had been locked since Camille moved in. She’d noticed it during Eleanor’s

The drawer was supposed to hold socks. Camille hadn’t meant to snoop—or at least, that’s what she told herself as

Camille made it until noon before the rage hit. She’d spent the morning in her room, staring at her phone,

The article came out three days later. Camille stood in the kitchen at dawn, staring at her phone screen. The

The newspaper landed on the breakfast table with a thwack that made Camille jump. Eleanor stood at the head of

The Kensington Foundation Gala was the kind of event where fortunes were made and destroyed between champagne flutes. Camille stood

Eleanor was waiting in the sitting room when they returned from Dr. Harrison’s office. She’d set out tea service on

Sunday morning breakfast was usually torture, but today Camille was grateful for the routine. It gave her something to focus

The envelope was waiting on Camille’s pillow when she returned from her morning run. Cream-colored, heavy stock paper, her name