Part 2: The Woman in the Silver Mask
Arden looked at her husband for a long moment, her fingers still damp from rinsing blood off one small cut the crystal had left on her palm.
“A certain level of presentation,” she repeated softly.
Blake slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. He had the impatient expression of a man explaining daylight to someone he believed had never seen the sun.
“Yes,” he said. “Tonight is not some neighborhood dinner. The Coastal Vision Benefit is where serious people make serious decisions. I cannot spend the evening introducing my wife and watching everyone wonder why Blake Winslow married someone who looks like she came to serve the soup.”
Lenette gave a small satisfied breath behind him.
“Blake,” Arden said, “I arranged the donation list for that event.”
He laughed once, not loudly, but sharply enough that it landed worse than shouting.
“You copied names from a spreadsheet. Do not inflate yourself.”
Arden straightened. The kitchen lights made every shard of crystal near her feet shine like ice.
