She wanted to understand why Braithe had pretended to be her friend and if it had all been a play for Grant. She also wanted to know why she had been stupid enough to fall for it. Hadn’t she learned how to spot disingenuous people by now? She’d certainly had enough therapy to understand what toxic behavior looked like. She was rubbing her forehead when the text came.

You have my attention...

She blinked at the text. “What the fuck,” she said under her breath. This felt like a game, one where she was being baited. She left the phone upside down on the counter and went to make herself a drink. This was nuts. This didn’t feel right or like Braithe. Halfway to the minibar, she changed her mind and picked up her phone, her thumbs moving furiously across the screen.

I don’t just want your attention, she typed. I want an explanation.

She watched the text bubbles appear and disappear; she imagined Braithe typing something angry and then erasing it. In her current state of mind, Braithe clearly didn’t believe she owed her own husband an explanation for her behavior; she definitely wasn’t going to tell Rainy anything. She could push harder.

Tara told me that the whole reason you came to Vegas was to see that psychic to ask about you and Grant. Is she telling me the truth, Braithe? You’re in love with Grant?

It looked like Braithe was composing a novel; the text in progress dots danced on the screen for what felt like ten minutes before her reply lit up Rainy’s screen.

What we had was special and he feels the same way. I can prove it.

She didn’t want to hear from Braithe again, not until she’d had a chance to talk to Grant face-to-face. That was fair, she thought; they’d both been holding back information. She could at least give him the truth about her own past.

She saw that Braithe had texted her again, and she almost deleted it without reading...almost. Curiosity won. Braithe had sent four photos. Letters laid out on a white bedspread.

When Rainy zoomed in, she saw that they were photos of handwritten letters from Grant, or at least his name was signed to them. She wouldn’t read the content. Braithe was trying to bait her. She slammed her phone on the counter and thought about calling Grant; this was nuts, what exactly was she trying to prove?

Those are old letters, she sent back.

Lol. They are. You’re too sharp for your own good, Rainy.