Angelica stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen as if it might explode the moment she touched it.
The video of Flinn's debauchery—more or less—sat quietly in her gallery, inert and damning. But it wasn't that which twisted her stomach. It was the missed call notification above it.
She strangled a scream before it could leave her throat, biting down on her hair as her legs thrashed beneath the sheets, only to wince at the next second.
How could she have slept through her sister's call? Would she even answer if she called back? And why had Arabella called at all?
She didn't care about the reason. The fact alone had been enough to make her chest feel lighter—if only for a moment.
That feeling didn't last for long.
"Did she... know?"
Maybe she called Flinn, and somehow he told her after realizing who she was. No. He was too lost in the haze to even remember her, much less know who she was.
