Every time he speaks in the past tense, my heart beats a little harder. Each thump cracks my ribs, knocking another shard loose until they’re hanging precariously over the most important part of my anatomy. Hearing that Mallory and I’s plan worked, that we had successfully convinced him to release the reigns, sends me floating up into the clouds. My ascent is marked with joy and love for the incredible woman who is more mine now than she was when Dad bought the act. But I know, based on his expression and his tone, that the feeling will be short-lived. That whatever he says next will send me
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NONE of this was necessary. Get to the point.
