KIERAN’S POV
Margaret’s voice still rang in my ears long after the call ended—ragged, breathless, the sound of a mother who’d just had the floor ripped out from under her.
‘She’s gone, Kieran.'
For a moment, I just stood there with the phone pressed to my ear, heartbeat thudding in my chest like it was trying to claw its way through my bruised ribcage.
Gone. Rationally, I told myself Celeste was being dramatic. Impulsive.
This could’ve been another act, another ploy for attention, her way to punish us for not revolving around her grief.
That didn’t stop me from bolting out of my office and driving through the streets of LA like a madman.
Ethan and Margaret were in the hotel lobby when I arrived.
Jaw locked, shoulders tense, he stood with an arm around her like he was trying to physically keep her from falling apart while she clutched Celeste’s purse like a lifeline.
