Georgina

The flight feels eternal. Rain streaks the small aircraft windows. The beautiful blue sea is steel-grey, the island cloaked in cloud. Like a daydream, something too fantastical to be anything but imagined.

"I warned you," is all my brother says, his nose swollen, one eye black. "I warned you about him."

"You were right," I say, pulling my crumpled suit jacket closer, resigning myself to the foolish grief rising high, threatening to choke me.

In the end, Lewis was right.

Richard sent me away. Used me, made me fall for him, and then let me go.

Cast me off like a line.

Tears streak my face silently as we fly across the sea. Lewis was right, and Richard was dangerous. But I'm the one who fell in love with him.

I'm the girl who thought she was a princess, and in the end, was nobody.

—

The work is steady. No — better than steady. I have more jobs lined up than ever, word that I survived Richard Platton for longer than any one PR assistant in his history. Better, many of the firms and client