![]() ![]() “Luce.” Hayden smiled as naturally as she could. ![]() “Are you sure? You’ve been, I don’t know, quiet?” “What? Me? I’m fine.” Hayden’s voice was far too high. I haven’t seen you much, and didn’t want to ask over the phone. “I knew that would sell it for you.” Luce paused. Clemmie and Sam often chatted when Sam bought coffee. Because then Luce could mention it to Sam. Maybe Hayden could avoid mentioning it… No. Hayden had seen her roster on the fridge the other day. Hayden tried to look natural while inside trying not to die. “Are you still coming? You said you and Sam were in.” “So glad to see you’re with me.” Luce’s voice was deadpan, and Hayden flashed them a sheepish smile. It’s-” she turned sheepish “-it’s tomorrow.” “Clemmie’s photography exhibition opening?” But she and Sam had gotten this fake marriage this far, had gotten through Christmas, and Sam had her lawyer dealing with the process for the inheritance thing. ![]() ![]() Hayden wanted to spill them out all over the table and not even care what she left behind for the entire hospital to see. The words that would give that away to Luce built in Hayden’s throat, pressed against her tongue. “Hayden,” they said, “we spoke about it before Christmas.” Luce grabbed a grape from Hayden’s tray, and considering the circumstances, Hayden didn’t think she should even be grumpy about it. ![]()
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