Did Niamh blame Jonathan?
Of course she did.
She blamed him for choosing Marina over her.
She blamed him for kicking her when she was down, piling on when the rumors were swirling.
She blamed him for never reaching out a hand to steady her struggling little studio.
She blamed him for so many things.
But most of all—
She blamed him for not recognizing that she was Rina, the girl from all those years ago.
Niamh held Jonathan’s gaze for a moment, her smile twisting into something sharp and mocking.
“You really do think the world revolves around you, don’t you?” she said quietly.
Once upon a time, she had blamed him for everything.
But not anymore.
Because holding onto that blame only made the cracks in her already shattered heart run deeper.
If anyone deserved her anger, it was herself—for being so utterly blind.
Just then, someone came bustling into the grand lobby, and Niamh’s face lit up. She hurried to meet them, leaving Jonathan standing there, his hand twitching at his side, uncertain.
He had a strange feeling—that even if he reached out, he’d never be able to hold onto her.
Preston Winslow swept into the gilded foyer of the Grand Riverview Hotel, surprised to find not only Niamh and the Queen of Frostvale with her bodyguard, but also Jonathan, Marina, and Susy gathered together.
He mouthed at Niamh across the room: “Are you setting me up here?”
Niamh had told him on the phone that there was a big job—providing accommodation and security for the Queen of Frostvale.
But she’d never mentioned that this job originally belonged to the Thomases and the Frasers.
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