Series: He is making you out to be crazy, Nana—you need to hide under the bed right now, six-year-old Maya whispered, her eyes wide with terror as she tugged my sleeve inside the private recovery suite.

Part 1 I scrambled beneath the heavy dust ruffle just seconds before my second husband, Julian, walked in with the attending physician. From the dark [more…]

The sterile scent of the clinic still clung to my silk robe. Dr. Washington’s notes, a slim folder detailing the unauthorized sedatives in my system, [more…]

The annual Atlanta Symphony Guild’s gala shimmered with diamonds and thinly veiled judgment. I moved through the ballroom on Harrison Saint-Claire’s arm, a practiced smile [more…]

The scent of aged paper and lemon polish filled Great-Aunt Cecelia’s home in Druid Hills. Her house was a quiet echo of a bygone era, [more…]

Harrison Saint-Claire’s office was a tableau of refined power, all dark wood and leather. The original 1984 trust document lay open on his polished conference [more…]

The week that followed Julian’s counter-strike was a blur of frantic phone calls and legal maneuvers. My bank accounts were indeed frozen, a digital wall [more…]

I was still reeling from the revelation of Julian’s bigamy, the truth burning bright and hot, ready to set fire to his carefully constructed world. [more…]

The quiet calm of Great-Aunt Cecelia’s library, usually a balm, felt like a holding cell. I paced, the frozen accounts and the sight of Julian’s [more…]

The grand marble hall of my Tuxedo Road home felt alien, hollow. The afternoon sun, usually so warm and inviting through the arched windows, seemed [more…]

Two weeks later, the grand library of my Tuxedo Road estate was my sanctuary. I sat alone by the massive fireplace, the unadulterated jasmine tea [more…]