"Does it hurt?" His fingers close on my jaw before I can answer. He doesn't squeeze like someone testing; he clamps like a man showing ownership. "Let go," I say. He lets go. He smiles without amusement. "You always look fragile until the moment you snap." A woman in a silk dress steps between us, fingers trailing the velvet of a display case. "This one," she says to the jeweler. "Last of the sapphire line. Put it on hold." Celine Davis says it like she's ordering a dessert. Sebastian laughs at something she whispers. He has the kind of arm that reads expensive and effortless as he folds it around her waist. "Kaelynn," I hear my name said like a question. "Come on, Marta. Smile for once," Kaelynn says. Her hand is light on my elbow. She pushes me forward like she's introducing me to a show. People turn. The mall knows the Conners. Cameras swivel. Phones lift. "How fortuitous," Celine says. She glances at me like she's read my face and found a design she likes. "You wanted it." "I was looking," I say. I keep my voice even. Saying "wanted" would make it mine in the room. Saying "looking" makes it neutral. Sebastian's eyes cut to mine. No softness. "You should let it go." Kaelynn opens her mouth like she's going to protest, then closes it. She does what she always does: tries and then folds. "Reserved for me," Celine repeats. Her