anything now.
It was all too far gone for her to make it right. She
’d do this
and she’d live with it. She’d sin and she’d repent later. She’d
pay whatever penance she had to pay, but right now, she had to
find that necklace.
This is wrong. This is bad. This isn’t you. You don’t go
around lying to people. Deceiving them. Hurting them.
Stealing.
It’s not stealing, I’m only going to find it and borrow it. Just
for a few hours. Or a day. I’ll put it back. I’ll fix this.
It is stealing. It’s theft, and you lied, and you cheated, and
it’s wrong. Dad wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want any of
this. It’s too much. There are no excuses. There is no
justification for this.
A soft, gentle hum drifted down the hall from the bathroom.
When they got home, Giana said she felt like a bath. She was
tired, but Coralyn wouldn’t let her sleep. She thought the idea
was terrible, but she needed Giana distracted, so she’d agreed
if she kept the door open more than a crack and made sounds
at least every couple of minutes that proved she was still
awake and okay.
She’d done the right thing as soon as they got there. She’d
gone straight to Giana’s home office, which was easy enough
to find even though the house was a damn mansion, and
grabbed the little black book she’d spotted by a closed laptop.
There was nothing in Giana’s phone for doctors, but Coralyn
found what she needed in that book. Apparently, the uber rich
had crazy pull in cases like this, because when she called, the
doctor, who sounded ancient and creaky, agreed to be there