Oh, how she loathed being the subject of attention and gossip. Cliff hadn’t understood her aversion. He’d hungered for the limelight, and not only because it was essential to building his brand. If attention was a large pie, he would have greedily devoured the whole thing without offering her a sliver. But perhaps precisely because she wasn’t interested, the media chose to focus on her. How did she feel about his latest affair? Why didn’t she leave? Had she no self-respect? She became a case study in humiliation, although she’d never understood why the shame should be hers when he was the one who was cheating. They photographed her from every angle, commented on the weight she’d lost, how haggard she looked, their speculation cruel and deeply personal. If he cheats, it must be her fault. They’d speculated on whether in marrying a man fourteen years her senior she’d somehow been trying to replace her father. That suggestion had offended her more than any of them. Cliff was nothing like her father. Hearing the two of them mentioned in the same breath had made her want to lash out.

Why did they hate her so much? It was a question she’d often pondered, and the only explanation that made sense was that they envied her. They envied her going to bed with Cliff, waking up next to Cliff, wearing his ring on her finger. And the only way to handle that envy was to convince themselves that she was having a miserable life.

They might have felt better had they known that most of the time she was.

The buzzer rang again and Nessa sent an angry look in the direction of the door.

“They’re like hyenas, ready to chomp down on a carcass.”

“Yes.” Given that she was the carcass, the analogy wasn’t comfortable.

“The stuff they say about you is all total crap. Aren’t you ever tempted to give your side of things?”

What would be the point? He said, she said... “They don’t want the truth.”

“Surprising they don’t get bored, as you never give them a response. I guess they need to milk the story, and they hope that if they’re persistent you might eventually say something. Cliff’s dead, so he’s not going to be saying anything, the girl is in the hospital—that leaves you. They’ll want your reaction.”

What was her reaction? What did she feel?

“Dead.” She said the word aloud again, trying to make it real. Testing herself. Pressing, to see if it hurt.

Nessa eyed her. “Can I pour you a drink? A real drink?”