Violet stared at McNeil, struggling to process his words.


    "Vivian, is that you?"


    He asked again, and Violet''s eyes instantly filled with tears.


    "Does it matter?" she choked out. "Whether I''m Vivian or someone else does it really matter to you, McNeil? Is that the only reason you want to be with me, because of who I might be?"


    Her nerves were frayed; she wasn''t Vivian, and once, she could have admitted that openly in front of him. But now, she couldn''t bring herself to say it.


    After thatst rally, the crash-no one believed she could be the dazzling woman behind the wheel, let alone the team''s supposed mechanical engineer. If she imed to be Vivian now, her entire story would unravel under scrutiny. One lie would only lead to more, and eventually, it would all be impossible to exin.


    "It matters to me," McNeil said quietly. "If you''re not Vivian, then there''s only one person who is."


    He watched her, taking in every flicker of panic that crossed her face.


    Her secrets were none of his business, or they wouldn''t have been-except she''d crossed Victoria''s line. And now, all of Violet''s bad luck, all the mishaps—it wasn''t coincidence. This had Victoria''s fingerprints all over it.


    "Who is it, then?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "Don''t tell me it''s Victoria. God, McNeil, she can barely drive a car, remember? Thest time she took out the Ferrari, it broke down in a snowstorm. Someone died in her car, have you forgotten? And now you''re telling me she''s Vivian?"


    Violet let out a shakyugh, tears threatening to spill.


    "The developer of that racing game," McNeil said quietly. "That was Vivian."


    Theughter died in Violet''s throat. She stared at McNeil, all pretense gone, and practically shouted, "So what, McNeil? Even if she is Vivian, what does that change?"


    "At the very least," McNeil replied, "she never lied to me."


    He gave her onest look. "Go back to the apartment Grandpa bought you, or to Simms'' ce I don''t care. You can decide."


    With that, he turned away. The final break between them was swift and absolute.


    "McNeil!" she cried desperately. "What about Gwh? Have you forgotten how she feels? She never liked Victoria-she only loves me!"


    She clung to thest thread of hope, convinced McNeil wouldn''t abandon her for Gwh''s sake.


    "I''ll handle things with Victoria," he said tly. "Gwh''s already withdrawn from school."


    For the first time, there was a spark of hope in his eyes-a glimpse of the future he''d chosen.


    Violet stared at him in disbelief. "You''re really taking Gwh to Evermore City? Are you insane? You don''t love Victoria. Gwh doesn''t even like her. Why drag her back into your lives if you''ve both already decided to leave her behind?" Cóntent


    She pleaded, her voice raw, "Look at me, McNeil, please. Please, just look at me. Your grandfather took everything from me-I can never have children now. All I have left is you and Gwh. Don''t leave me behind. Please."


    But McNeil''s face had be a mask of indifference, colder than she''d ever seen.


    "Violet, I was never yours. Not ever. As soon as Gwh learned I was divorcing Victoria, she cried for an entire day. No one can rece Victoria. No one."


    He turned and walked away, not once looking back.


    No matter how Violet screamed and sobbed behind him, he didn''t hesitate.


    That silent rebellion-walking away-lifted the crushing weight from his shoulders. For the first time, he could breathe.


    He knew Victoria might never forgive


    him. He knew the road ahead would


    be long and uncertain. But as long


    as there was even the slightest chance to stay by her side, he would take it.


    No matter what it took, he wouldn''t let her go.


    He needed her he couldn''t lose her, not now.


    Violet watched as McNeil''s car disappeared into the distance. She chased after it, running until her legs gave out and she copsed, broken, onto the empty street.