Chapter Eighty-three

I stared at my phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of my room, and my thumb hovered over Louis’s name. I knew I had to call him, knew that I couldn’t keep this from him, but the thought of it made my chest tighten. I could picture his face when I told him what I had learned, the way his happiness would drain away, replaced by that cold fury that always consumed him when he thought about his mother’s death.

For once, things were looking up for us. Natasha was gone—vanished into thin air—and with her out of the picture, the path ahead seemed clearer, brighter....