Gilded Lies The Perfect Sister. The Gilded Lies Series, #2

The sunlight glimmered off the Miami skyline like shards ofchampagne, each reflection sharp and golden against the glasstowers. I stood barefoot on my balcony, silk robe tied looselyaround me, letting the ocean breeze tease the ends of my hair. The water below shimmered deceptively calm, the kind of calmI'd learned not to trust. One year of silence, one year of space, and here I was, breathing freely again-or so I thought.
Inside my penthouse, the scent of peonies and sandalwoodlingered, courtesy of a dozen Jo Malone diffusers lined alongthe marble counters. My phone vibrated on the counter, a softgold-glass tray rattling slightly beneath it. Unread messages. Twelve missed calls. All from her. Rochelle. I didn't block her number. Not entirely. Not yet. There was stillthat tiny fragment of hope buried in the corners of my chest-hope that maybe she had changed, that maybe her words wouldsoften, that maybe.
she'd say she was sorry