#Chapter 70: Just An Act

Hannah The ride back to the mansion was silent, the low rumble of the car’s engine and the tires crunching across the pavement the only sounds that filled the void between us. I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the city lights blur past us all too slowly for my liking. I didn’t even dare to turn and look at Noah. How could he not even remember something so simple, so fundamental as the age we were or the date when we had met? I remembered every tiny, infinitesimal detail of that night as though it had been just yesterday. From the color of the tie Noah had been wearing on our first date—a deep forest green that almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes—to the slightly nervous way he kept adjusting his shirtsleeves. Hell, I could probably recreate the entire exchange word-for-word if I concentrated hard enough. That moment had been seared into my memory, replayed in my mind’s eye more times than I could count over the long, bitter years that followed. B