e snow at Chloe Davis' s memorial. I was Olivia Reynolds, a tech heiress
didn' t commit, mourning a woman whose supposed death catalyzed his public transformation into a guru. This
f the Grand Astoria Hotel, on my wedding day, the scent
d to talk to you about Chloe." He spun the same manipulative tale from my past life, claiming C
e, together. The same sacrifice that h
ts' grief, Ethan' s vacant eyes after Julian des
uldn't cry or beg. I would give Julian exactl