Part 13

Ira's first few days in small-town captivity were filled with silence, punctuated by the whir of a drill or the pounding of a hammer as Tawan installed security devices around the house.

Ira spent most of her time in the living room. The cozy comfort of the space let her pretend everything was normal, and the books were a surprising treasure trove of escapes.

She'd never considered herself a reader. She'd been too busy going from concerts to parties to after-parties to events. She never sat still long enough to sink into anything longer than a magazine article.

Now she had all the time in the world.

So she selected a romance from the shelf, curled up on the couch, and lost track of time. By the end of the week, she'd read three and started a fourth.

She'd really been missing out.

No wonder Kate always had a book queued up on her phone.

A knock on the doorframe startled her out of a particularly steamy scene. She hugged the book to her chest like a kid caught in the act.

"What?"

Tawan leaned against the doorframe. She'd rolled up the sleeves of her dark gray shirt, streaks of dirt covering her jeans. She looked a little more girl-next-door cute and less like a one-woman army.

"Tomorrow's my brother's birthday."

Ira blinked. "Okay." She waited for the punchline, but Tawan didn't elaborate.

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

"It's bad timing." Tawan gave a resigned sigh. "There's a party. Since we're in town, my family is expecting us to be there. They're excited to meet you."

A cautious smile crept onto Ira's face.

The idea of getting out of the house and being with people instantly thrilled her.

At the same time, she felt a stab of fear.

The last party she attended had sent a man to the hospital.

"Is it a little get-together at their house, or is it a take-over-Central Plaza Kalasin kind of party?"

"Neither. It's Kai's eighteenth, and it's at my dad's restaurant downtown. There'll be free booze, so..." Tawan shrugged as if that explained everything.

"So the whole town will be there." She curled her knees up to her chest. "I can see how you'd hate that. You're such a hermit, it would be like torture."

"What I like or hate isn't relevant." Tawan paced across the room, then turned back. "It's a lot of people, which means exposure and an infinite number of ways things could go wrong."

"A lot of people." Excitement and anxious dread tied knots in Ira's stomach.

She really, really, really wanted to go.

What Tawan saw as a bad idea, she saw as a chance to feel normal.

"It's your brother's eighteenth birthday. You have to go. But..." she hesitated, "maybe I should stay home?"

She tried hard to keep the hopeful longing from seeping into her tone.

"No." Tawan's mouth twisted like the decision left a bad taste in it. "I'm not leaving you alone, and if we don't show up together, it'll cause too many questions."

Ira levitated off the couch, clapping her hands together.

"Okay. So we're going to a party. What's your dad's place like? What should I wear? I think we need to go shopping. Lin didn't send me with party clothes."

Tawan's attention wandered to her phone. "What you have on is fine."

"It's not fine." Ira plucked at her oversized shirt. This was a bum-around-the-house outfit, not a go-out-and-be-seen-by-anyone-you-care-about outfit.

"And there's no way your actual girlfriend would go to a birthday party for your brother looking like she just spent a month alone in a rice field."

"That would blend in around here."

"I seriously doubt that." Ira eyed her with suspicion. "Did you bring your brother a present?"

"I'll give him cash."

"Cash," Ira repeated, aghast. Was she serious? The blank look on Tawan's face said yes. Yes, she was.

"Oh my God. You give your brother cash as a gift? I know I've accused you of being a robot, but I didn't actually think it was true."

"Every teenager likes cash," Tawan said, sounding perplexed.

Ira crossed her arms the same way Wisanu did when pointing out the obvious. "A gift should be personal. It should mean something. It should be wrapped and presented with flair so that the person you're giving it to knows you thought about them and that you care."

"Nothing says care like cash. He can get what he wants with cash."

"How much cash?" She waved both hands. "You know what, it doesn't matter. You can't give your brother pieces of green paper for his birthday.

Besides, tomorrow's Sunday. The banks are closed. Do you even have enough cash on you?"

"No. I've been focused on something else lately." She gave Ira a look that said she thought her priorities were completely out of whack.

"I can give it to him later. It won't matter if he gets it a day or two late."

She shook her head.

"He's your brother. It's his eighteenth. You can't be late, and you can't just shove a wad of baht at him like he's a dancer. You have to give him something real. Something he can look at later and think wow, my sister must really love me. Something that means something."

Tawan rubbed her face like she was reconsidering her entire existence.

"What, exactly, do you think I should give him, and can we find it within a thirty-kilometer radius in the next hour?"

Ira felt like she'd won a major victory. She beamed at Tawan.

"I don't know yet. Let's go shopping."

Ira popped out of bed with a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in ages.She spent an hour putting together an outfit she thought Earn wouldn't mind wearing to a meet-the-boyfriend's-family event.

Dark jeans, a navy boat-neck T-shirt, a cropped jacket—no rhinestones or glitter of any kind—and black ankle boots. Then she studied the effect in the mirror. The redhead looking back at her was a stranger.

Ira wore sparkly dresses and heels to parties.

Earn wore plain denim and boots.

She turned this way and that, checking out the effect from all angles. Earn looked pretty damn good.

Definitely girl-next-door hot, even if the airy-textured shoulder-length red hair gave her an edge not usually seen in a town like this. It wasn't the kind of hot she normally went for, but... she could see it growing on her.

Satisfied that she'd fit in at Tawan's family gathering, Ira went downstairs. Tawan was already there, leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone.

She wore a navy pullover and dark jeans.

Ira paused mid-step. They were matching.

"Hey, we match," she said with a grin. "We're one of those couples."

Tawan's eyes narrowed. Was that... disapproval? Irritation?

Ira wasn't sure why she'd wanted or expected Tawan to be pleased about how she looked. It wasn't like they were actually dating.

"It'll work," Tawan said flatly, hoisting Kai's birthday gift—a Gibson guitar in a custom case complete with a carrying strap—onto her shoulder.

"Still can't believe I let you talk me into this thing."

Ira toyed with the enormous red bow on the case, making sure it lay exactly right. "It's perfect." Tawan grunted as she carried the guitar toward the door. "It cost more than my first car." She opened the door and stepped outside. "This has to be the most expensive guitar ever made."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ira said as she followed her to the truck.

"It's the cheap side of acceptable. A professional guitar costs three times what you spent. Minimum."

"A professional makes a living with their guitar. They should pay more. This is Kai's hobby, not his career."

Tawan placed the guitar on the seat between them.

"You don't know that. He's barely eighteen. What if football doesn't work out?"

Tawan backed out of the driveway, turning toward town.

"I don't think starting a band is his fallback. He's going for a business degree."

"Boring."

Ira wrinkled her nose. It struck her that she'd never even considered doing anything else with her life. She'd stepped on stage when she was eight years old and never looked back. It was a fantastic life. She had her siblings and music, and there was always a party somewhere. But as she watched the asphalt turn to cobblestones, and concrete strip malls shift to red brick storefronts, she wondered...

What would her life have been like if she hadn't picked up that first microphone?

Would she have gone to university?

Would she have worked a normal job?

Would she have ever been happy?

She swallowed the unexpected lump in her throat.

"Did you like living here?"

She didn't know why she'd asked, but now that she had, she really wanted to know. She shifted in her seat, turning so she could see Tawan's face. Tawan checked her side mirror.

"Sure."

"That doesn't sound very enthusiastic."

She shrugged.

"It was home."

Ira studied her. Tawan's tone was neutral, but there was something underneath it. Something Ira couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Everybody here has a work-all-week, then go-out-on-Saturday-night kind of life, don't they?"

"Most do. City or small town, makes no difference."

"I guess." Cities always felt like they were in a constant state of change, which suited Ira. She'd grown up in a hundred different towns, on a thousand different stages. Life in motion had always felt right.

But now, driving through Kalasin, she couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to stay in one place. It seemed so foreign, but it also seemed nice. Like a spa day. "What was your high school like?"

"Same as any other. Classes. Homework."

"I never went to high school."

Tawan eyed her. "How'd you get around that?"

"We spent a lot of time on the road, so I was homeschooled. I always wondered what it would be like to go to class and hang out after school. I also really wanted to go to a school dance. I always thought school programs would be cool."

"I skipped it," Tawan said with a don't-ask finality that hit all of Ira's curiosity buttons.

"Ratchanee let you get away with that?"

"She didn't get a say."

"Bet she loved that." Ira eyed her. Something was behind that glare. "So why'd you skip it? You can't dance?"

"I had somewhere else to be." Tawan's lips pressed down in a tight hard line.

"Where?"

"The military." Her jawline was so tense now that Ira could see the muscles flexing along her neck.

"Lucky for me, then." Ira kept her tone light. "If you hadn't, I'd be facing this all on my own."

Tawan snorted. "I doubt that."

"Well, maybe not totally alone. I'd have my siblings. And Nene." She turned away from Tawan to look out the window. "I doubt they'd have been as fanatical as you about keeping me safe, though."

She saw Tawan's hands tighten on the steering wheel in her reflection. "I'm not a fanatic. I'm a professional. You're safe with me, Earn."

She said it like a fact. Like she was the brick wall, or the mountain. Like no matter what happened, she would stand between Ira and danger and make sure it never touched her. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before. Nobody had ever made her feel that protected. She hadn't even known she needed it, until now.

Kalasin's town center was alive with people. The streets were lined with food stalls, local artisans selling. A golden temple shimmered in the distance, and motorcycles zipped through the narrow streets. Even though it was small, the town had a warmth to it. People greeted each other like old friends, laughter carried in the air, and the scent of food made Ira's stomach grumble.

They passed under a banner that read Kalasin Silk Festival - October 22 & 23 - Traditional Weaving, Food Stalls, Cultural Performances!

"That sounds like fun." Ira pointed at the sign. "We should go to that. If we're still here, I mean. Will we be?"

"Thought you'd want to get back to the city as fast as an airplane would take you."

Ira watched a teenage couple pause to sneak a kiss near a small noodle shop. It was so delightfully normal. The entire town had a nothing-bad-happens-here atmosphere. "I wouldn't have to go that fast. If you catch the guy tomorrow, I could take a few days. I'm on break, after all."

Tawan turned down a side street next to a shop called Sabaidee Styles with a window display of handmade scarves in deep reds and golds, the intricate patterns woven with the kind of skill only local artisans could master.

Ira, she decided, liked to shop. She'd have to convince her warden to take her there.

They pulled into a parking lot in front of an old, serious-looking building with District Office engraved in the stone above the door.

Tawan found a spot under a tree wearing brilliant red and orange leaves and turned off the engine. "You ready? Remember your cover?"

The reason she needed a cover story to begin with sent a now-familiar stab of anxiety through Ira. She deflected it by pointing at her hair. "It's not like I can forget."

Tawan reached across her lap to flick open the glove compartment. For a wild second, she thought Tawan was going to reach for her, and a little thrill raced through her. Instead, Tawan pulled a small blue box from the cubby hole that might have come from a nice jewelry store and handed it to her.

She stared at it. "What's that?"

"Open it."

"Gee, you shouldn't have. I didn't get you anything," Ira mocked as she opened the lid.

Inside, she found a simple gold chain with a round gold pendant engraved with a star and what looked like a tiny diamond embedded at the center. She picked it up and let the pendant dangle from her hand. The diamond caught the light.

"It's not your style, I know. But I thought you might like having it around."

"It's really pretty." She looked up at Tawan, touched by her almost apologetic tone. "Thank you."

Tawan took the necklace from her and undid the clasp. "It's not jewelry. It's a panic button."

"A panic button," Ira repeated, oddly fascinated by the way her fingers moved.

"Here." Tawan gestured for her to turn.

She shifted in the seat until her back was toward Tawan. Lifted her hair up and sat very still as Tawan slipped the chain around her neck, then worked the clasp. Ira was hyperaware of the way her fingers brushed against the back of her neck.

Tawan's fingers brushed against the back of Ira's neck as she fastened the clasp, and a slow, simmering heat unfurled beneath Ira's skin. It was nothing. Just a simple, practical motion.

Except it wasn't.

Tawan had a deft touch, her fingers light but deliberate, grazing sensitive skin in a way that felt almost too intimate for something so innocent. Ira felt it everywhere—spreading in slow, lazy waves, setting off little shivers in places that had no business reacting.

It put ideas in her head. Ideas that involved the truck, a secluded spot outside Kalasin, and a lot less clothing.

She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the sudden, reckless urge to lean back into Tawan's touch. To let those skilled hands slide just a little lower, to feel them explore the same way she imagined them doing far too many times since this whole ordeal began.

This wasn't about that. It couldn't be.

But for a split second, she let herself imagine it—the weight of Tawan pressing her into the seat, the heat of Kalasin's humid air replaced by the warmth between them, the way Tawan's voice might sound when it dropped into something lower, rougher... needier.

The clasp clicked into place. Ira exhaled slowly, blinking herself back to the present as Tawan's hands moved away.

She shouldn't be thinking like that. There was nothing remotely seductive about her current situation.

Nothing at all.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind chuckled. Oh really? There's nothing seductive about a hot, sexy bodyguard willing to put her life on the line to keep you safe?

Her mental voice sounded suspiciously like Kate.

"If you feel unsafe, or we get separated, just squeeze it for three seconds," Tawan said. "Go ahead. Squeeze. I want you to see how it feels."

Ira felt a little flicker of disappointment, which was ridiculous. They weren't really a couple. It wasn't jewelry. This was just pretend. She dutifully pressed the pendant. A loud, un-ignorable alarm, like an angry foghorn, filled the truck. Ira jumped and squealed. Her hand fluttered around the necklace in a desperate attempt to make the noise stop.

"It's me." Tawan showed her phone screen. A red hazard sign glowed on the lock screen, along with a message: Earn sent an emergency alert. Below that, a small dot flashed on a map of downtown Kalasin, pinpointing exactly where they were sitting. Tawan hit the Silence button to stop the alarm.

"You could have warned me," Ira said a little too loudly in the sudden stillness. Her heart pounded like it was doing its own drum solo. "That scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry." Tawan actually sounded like she meant it. The necklace lay heavy and serious against Ira's chest. "That sound is going to send any nearby dogs into fits."

"The necklace is silent," Tawan assured her. "Nobody will know you triggered it but me and my team, so don't worry about where you are or who will hear it."

She showed Ira the app screen. "It's a GPS locator accurate to within two feet, monitored twenty-four seven. The second you send the alert, we all leap into action. Don't look for us, don't try to find us, and whatever you do, do not engage the enemy. Just run and hide. We'll find you."

"The enemy." Ira touched the pendant with soft fingers and thought about what that meant.

At this point, the enemy could be any man she saw. Her stalker was faceless and nameless, and he was out there. Somewhere.

"Do you think he knows where we are?"

"No. Not yet anyway." Tawan put a soothing hand on her shoulder. "This is just for backup. But I want you to wear it at all times. Don't even take it off in the shower. That way if you need it, you'll have it."

"Help, I've fallen and I can't get up," Ira chimed in an effort to lighten the mood. Adrenaline still coursed through her, spurred on by the way Tawan's hand warmed her shoulder.

"Something like that." Tawan reached for the keys, then opened the door like she hadn't just turned Ira's insides into a jumbled mess of confused electrical impulses looking for a place to zap. Why does she have to be so effortlessly competent?

"Tawan," Ira said, hopping out of the car after her.

Tawan picked up Kai's birthday present—a sleek black guitar case with a custom strap—and slung it over her shoulder like a soldier heading into battle. Combined with the alarm still ringing in Ira's ears, it made her nervous.

She couldn't remember ever being nervous in a crowd. She adored crowds. She lived for them. She loved the energy, the attention, the life buzzing all around her. But Tawan's constant surveillance and serious attitude made her hyper-aware of everything around them. It reminded her that there was something to be nervous about.

She grabbed Tawan's free hand and laced her fingers through hers. "Please lighten up." Tawan squeezed her hand reflexively, a tiny flicker of surprise flashing in her eyes. "This is light."

"Really? Because this face—" Ira drew a circle in the air around Tawan's face—"looks like we're going on a death march. If you don't smile at me every now and then, people will think we're fighting. Next thing you know, it'll be all over social media. People love posting drama. They rarely post about happy people. Trust me."

"Well, I guess you'd know all about that." Tawan flashed her something that wasn't quite a smile, but also wasn't the usual disapproving scowl. She felt the sting of her remark but refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she kept a bounce in her step as they made their way across the parking lot. "That's not a smile. That's a grimace. Try again."

Tawan bared her teeth at her. "Better?"

"No." A snort of laughter escaped.

"And I was trying so hard, too." Tawan let her fake smile drop into something a little less irritated, a little more neutral.

"Better," Ira told her with an approving nod. She forced her shoulders to relax. Today, there was no stalker. Today, she was Earn, Tawan Liang's girlfriend. Earn didn't have a stalker. She was just a normal girl, on her way to a party where she was going to meet her potential in-laws. How was she supposed to feel about that? Nervous? Intimidated? Delighted?

How would Ratchanee handle this situation?

Ira suppressed a snort. Ratchanee would glide in and command instant attention. Ratchanee was a diva.

It takes one to know one, she thought wryly.

But unlike Ratchanee, Ira had learned to share the spotlight. Maybe it had taken losing everything that mattered to teach her to do it, but she could. So she wouldn't command attention. But did that mean she had to be quiet? Surely not.

Earn was an actress. She was used to being in front of people. Earn was an extrovert, she decided. She wasn't a diva, but she wasn't a shy wallflower either, and she was looking forward to meeting Tawan's family.

The sidewalk grew so thick with people that they could barely navigate toward the door of a place. She'd seen crowds like this in city, except this was a Sunday afternoon, not a Friday night, and everyone wore casual outfits in one form or another instead of sequined cocktail dresses.

Ira gave herself an inner slap on the back for how well her outfit blended in with the locals.

"Well, if it isn't Storm rolling into town looking all badass!" a deep, booming voice called from half a block away.

Tawan pulled her to a stop. Her shoulders relaxed, and if Ira wasn't mistaken, that was a genuine smile on her face. Just like that, Ira's opinion of Tawan jumbled up all over again. The stoic soldier who found no joy in life vanished.

In her place was a woman whose entire face transformed with warmth at the sight of a friend, her normally guarded eyes lighting up in a way Ira had never seen before. It sent a sharp, unexpected thrill through Ira's chest—an insane, impulsive urge to close the distance and kiss her, to chase that fleeting softness and make it linger.

Before she could think better of it, Ira tightened her grip on Tawan's hand and gave a gentle tug, coaxing her to turn toward her. But the instant Tawan's sharp, questioning gaze locked onto hers, reality crashed in. What the hell was she doing? Heat flooded Ira's face, and in her scramble to cover the moment, she stumbled over her own feet.

"Sorry. Clumsy." She looked away before Tawan could see the flush she could feel coloring her cheeks.

The guy who'd caused that rare display on her warden's face was built like an Olympic bodybuilder. His heavily tattooed arms were so big that his T-shirt strained at the seams, and his tight jeans revealed muscular legs that could do real damage in a fight. He had an easy, ship-coming-into-harbor walk and a friendly, open expression.

Everyone he passed called out his name in greeting.

"Maybe I should start calling you Storm instead of Tawnie," Ira teased.

"You shouldn't call me either one," Tawan said as she waved the large man over. "Brick, good to see ya, man." They gave each other a half-shake, half bro-hug that caused Tawan to fumble the guitar case.

"You starting a band?" Brick asked as he eyed the case.

"It's for Kai," Tawan said.

"Interesting." The word was loaded with innuendo Ira didn't understand. "Where the hell have you been and why haven't you called? I gotta find out you're in town when I see you like everybody else?"

Amusement put life into Tawan's eyes. "You're not my wife."

Ira found herself grinning along with them. Brick laughed. "Damn good thing. We'd be divorced."

He pointedly looked down at Tawan and Ira's clasped hands. "Who's this?"

"Basham Saengthong, meet Earn Phongphiphat."

Tawan gave her a look filled with warning. It was her first test.

"Good to meet ya, Earn." Brick held out a hand for Ira to shake. "Call me Brick. Everybody does. 'Cause I'm built like a wall."

"Got a head like one too," Tawan said.

She shook Brick's hand with what she hoped was a friendly smile. "It's great to meet you. You're one of Tawan's high school friends, right?"

"Hell, I'm more than a friend. You telling me you ain't told her about my legendary skills on the field yet?" Brick feigned offense with a hand over his heart. "That hurts, man."

Tawan slapped him on the back. "Didn't want to steal your thunder. I know how you like an audience."

"Yes, I do. I really do. First round's on me."

"First round's always on the house for a private party," Tawan said.

"Perfect." Brick grinned before pressing his hands together in a brief wai of gratitude. "I'll get you something cheaper later when you're liquored up and won't notice. Hope you put your name on that pretty present. Kai might not realize it's from you." Brick gestured for Ira to go first.

"There's a card," Ira assured him. "Under the bow."

The crowd parted to let them through. Ira was taller than most of the woman here, but the place was so full she couldn't see much beyond a sea of faces. The energy was loud and infectious, filled with laughter and casual greetings of Sawasdee ka and Sawasdee krub as people called out to each other.

It was like a concert, except she didn't have a microphone, and nobody was even looking in her direction.

Brick led them through the throng of people, with Ira and Tawan following closely behind.

Both Tawan and Brick gave casual wai greetings and backslaps as they passed, exchanging nods and lighthearted slang with familiar faces. It was clear Tawan was well known, and people genuinely liked her.

Here in Kalasin, Ira drew curious looks, but only in a who's-the-new-girl way. Nobody gave her more than a passing glance. Ira couldn't remember a time when she'd gone unnoticed at a party. She was always the center of attention.

Tawan's evil plan to erase her had worked. Ira squeezed her hand a little tighter. Tawan glanced at her. "Everything okay?"

She tucked her free hand around Tawan's arm and nodded. "Nobody knows me."

Tawan lifted her chin toward someone offering a friendly nod. "That's the point."

She watched three more people greet Tawan like a long-lost friend. The pressure was all on Tawan. Ira didn't have to worry about anyone pushing in too close, taking pictures, or whispering behind their hands. She didn't have to hope her dress wasn't too revealing or strike the perfect pose.

"It's just that it feels different," she admitted. "I feel...free. I like it."

She thought she saw a flicker of surprise in Tawan's eyes before it vanished as quickly as it came. Brick led them toward a set of double doors, opening onto a courtyard that was so stunningly picturesque, Ira nearly stopped in her tracks.

Literally.

Someone called out Brick's name, and he sauntered over toward a smaller outdoor bar lined with fairy lights.

"Something wrong?" Tawan asked, a slight edge to her voice.

"This is the painting in the living room." Ira stared at the scene before her. She had assumed it was some kind of dreamscape, but here it was, brought to life. The ivy-covered walls, the string lights casting a warm glow, the elegant wooden bench nestled in the corner. The only difference was the vibrant yellow sunflowers—that had been arranged everywhere, like golden bursts of sunlight.

"I didn't know it was a real place. It's beautiful."

Tawan didn't respond at first.

"It's just that when I saw it, I kind of wished I could go there," Ira continued. "I pictured myself sitting right there, on that bench."

Tawan finally spoke, her voice softer than before. "My mom painted that a long time ago, when this place was Jae Noi's. Back then, there was a big charcoal grill where the fountain is now, and the back wall was covered with stacked wood instead of ivy."

"She painted something that wasn't here?" Ira watched in awe as the crowd moved through what felt like a sanctuary hidden in the heart of Kalasin. Tawan looked around as if she, too, had just realized what had been created. "She painted what she thought should be here."

Ira processed that. Someone had taken Tawan's mother's dream and turned it into reality. Someone who loved her very much. "Your dad built this for her."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Just after she died," Tawan said, voice neutral, but now that Ira knew what to listen for, she could hear the pain beneath the flat tone.

Like the house, this place was a tribute to Tawan's mother.

Unlike the house, it was full of life.

A song hummed from the speakers, but it could barely be heard over the chatter and laughter that filled the open courtyard.

Two couples sat on the long wooden bench beneath the trees, where vines of ivy and yellow flowers framed the walls. The open-air bar, carved out of teak wood, stood exactly where it should have been from the painting, its polished surface glowing under the warm fairy lights.

A young man in a t-shirt poured a glass of Singha beer for an older woman with short white hair, who responded with a playful, teasing comment that made him chuckle.

In the center of the courtyard, a tiered stone fountain overflowed with water, where floating lanterns and colorful balloons drifted in the basin.

A banner stretched across the courtyard, bold and celebratory in bright reds and golds:

Happy 18th, Kai!

"Your stepmother is okay with your dad doing this?" Ira asked, curiosity laced in her tone.

"She was my mother's closest friend," Tawan answered simply. "They built it together."

She shifted her gaze toward the far side of the courtyard.

"That's her, near the dessert table."

Ira followed her line of sight, catching a glimpse of a graceful Thai woman in a white blouse and jeans, moving effortlessly as she cut a slice of cake for an elderly guest. Her hair was neatly pulled into a bun and her warm, inviting smile made it obvious that she was the kind of woman who made everyone feel welcome.

The realization hit Ira like a cymbal crash. Tawan's stepmother was hosting a party in a place crafted as a monument to her husband's first wife, and she did it with a genuine smile on her face. That said all kinds of things about her.

"This place is incredibly special." Ira glanced at Tawan, admiration creeping into her voice. "And your stepmother must be amazing."

"She is."

Tawan nodded toward the lively courtyard, where people laughed over plates of grilled food and steaming bowls.

"Ready to meet the family?"

Adrenaline tingled along Ira's nerves, and her hand went instinctively to the pendant around her neck. She inhaled a deep, calming breath, the same way she did before walking onstage. She adjusted her posture, relaxed her shoulders, and smiled.

"Ready."