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And maybe it is. Maybe the gift is only condolences from a man who saw me fall apart and decided money was the closest thing he had to comfort.
Saying it out loud would make it strange.
So, I close the box and say nothing.
“What time will I come over?”
“Oh my God, are you sure?” Eilish says in a rush, her tone brighter now.
“What sort of friend leaves her bestie to the wolves on her birthday.”
Eilish’s exhale comes out like relief. “Come over at five before everyone else. We’ll have drinks and get ready together.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“You won’t be thanking me if I get drunk and call your da an arsehole.”
“Even you know that’s a bad idea,” she says. “Even more so now he and Alasdair are like best friends these days.”
When the call ends, silence settles around me.
I drop the phone onto the table and pick up the necklace, telling myself I’m only going to see how it looks on me before I put it back in the box.
The clasp is small and awkward beneath my fingers, but I get it fastened, and the chain settles against the base of my throat, the black diamond heart resting in the hollow with the little F beside it.
F for Fury.
That’s all.
I touch the pendant once, then tuck it beneath the neckline of my jumper.
Chapter 16
Fionn
I force a smile for Mara Kinnane, the future mother-in-law I’d happily strangle.
Her gaze slides over my dark trousers, open-necked shirt, and jacket.
“Fionn.” She comes toward me with both hands out. “You made it.”
“I said I would.”
“Yes, well.” She kisses the air near my cheek, perfume and champagne and nerves clinging to her. “Men say a lot of things.”
“They do.”
She laughs because she thinks I’m charming her when I’m simply going through motions. Another event in a different location with the same boring conversations.
The Kinnane house is lit from every corner, music drifting through the rooms, guests mingling.
Art is across the room with my father, both of them smoking cigars and drinking whiskey.
Eilish comes to my side and hands me a drink. “There you go. Your favorite.”
“Thanks.”
