Ha.
Like I’d ever want that.
That place is nothing but a wolf’s den.
The terrace door swung open, then clicked shut. Then it opened again.
A burst of citrus—fresh oranges, maybe tangerine—filled the air. Patricia didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
Ruby stood behind her, swirling a glass of wine, staring out over the river—past Patricia, who was sitting on the swing.
When Ruby finally looked at her, her voice was thick with nostalgia. “This swing—Dad wanted it gone when we remodeled, said it took up too much space. But I wouldn’t let him. I had to keep it.”
Her fingers drifted along the wooden frame. There was something wistful in her touch. “Because I knew, this was your dream. It’s what you always wanted.”
“You wanted to sit up here on the top floor, right by the water, just listening to the river and living that life where you step outside and the first thing you see is the view.”
“But what can I say?” Ruby gave a helpless, almost guilty smile. “The life you always hoped for as a kid—somehow, I ended up living it instead.”
She tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. “Did you ever think it would turn out like this, Patricia?”
Patricia pushed off the ground with her toes and stood from the swing, crossing her arms, leaning back against the railing. She looked right at Ruby.
“You know, a long time ago, someone stole a gong. But the thing about a gong is, the moment you hit it, everyone hears it. So all the thief could do was hide it, never dare use it.”
She paused, eyes sharp. “That’s you now, isn’t it? You’ve taken everything that was mine. But what can you do with it? Can you ever really show it off?”
“Go ahead, Ruby. Parade around with your Hermès bags, drive your fancy cars around town. But the second you do, someone’s going to remind you that all of it used to be mine. You’re just the thief who took what didn’t belong to her.”
Patricia stepped in, her words slow, cold, and deliberate. “That includes your so-called childhood sweetheart.”

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