“Maybe those newspaper articles are right: There is a curse.” She put the ring down.

“Oh, Constance. Don’t start with that tabloid nonsense.”

Constance pulled her hand away from him and jumped out of bed. “We have to protect Gemma from the press. She’s our child now.”

Alan held out his hand to her once again. “Please. Sit down. We need to talk.”

“We are talking.”

“Liam’s family is prepared to sue us for wrongful death. For millions. You’re worried about the tabloids? Let me tell you, the Maybrooks are threatening to talk. Pavlin & Co, instead of being synonymous with glamour and romance, will become a symbol of wrongful death. And think of what this could do to Paulina’s memory.”

Sue them? How could those wretched people think of money? That wouldn’t bring the kids back. And her husband seemed more concerned about the company than the fact that they’d lost their precious daughter.

“Paulina is gone. She was the face of the company. You can’t sell your way around that.”

Alan started to speak, then stopped. He looked at her with something that seemed like pity. “I hate to say it, but we’ve seen a sales spike since the accident. Paulina’s become a tragic figure. But if she’s seen as the cause of the accident, then she’s the villain.”

“What a horrible, horrible world we live in,” Constance said, sinking back against the pillows. She put her forearm over her eyes, like she did when she had a migraine. “So just pay off the Maybrooks. Whatever it takes. It’s only money.”

“They don’t want money.”

“What do they want?”

“Gemma.”

Constance barked a bitter laugh, short and loud, a single syllable that sounded like a car horn. Alan furrowed his brow.

“I’m serious, Constance. They want to raise Gemma themselves, and they don’t want us to have anything to do with her. No contact.”

“That’s not happening,” she said.

“Yes,” Alan said. “It is.”

60

It felt strange to be back in New York. The minute Gemma walked into the Casterbridge, she regretted her decision to stay there. The art deco lobby, now renovated from the original Victorian, transported her back to the fall of her senior year, when she and Sanjay had been together. There he was, behind the front desk like no time had passed. But it had. And everything was different.

Still, when he noticed her walk in his dark eyes lit up.

“You made it,” he said. “How was the trip?”

“Long,” she said, smiling. “It’s good to be here, though.” The ferry had been crowded, and she spent most of the trip mentally kicking herself over her bad judgment with Connor. And as tough as that was to think about, it was still preferable to her anxiety over the meeting with Sloan Pierce tomorrow.