Chapter 6

CAMILLE’S POINT OF VIEW

I woke to silk sheets and sunlight. For a moment, I thought I was back in my childhood bedroom, before everything fell apart. But the ceiling above me was unfamiliar, hand-painted cherubs floating in a cloudless sky, framed by gilded molding that probably cost more than my entire wedding.

Pain shot through my ribs as I tried to sit up, memories flooding back. The parking garage. Rose’s hired thugs. The mysterious woman with silver hair.

“Careful.” A voice from the doorway made me turn. “Three bruised ribs and a mild concussion. The doctor said you need rest.”

She stood there like something from a fashion magazine, tailored black pants suit, pearls that definitely weren’t fake, silver hair swept into an elegant twist. But it was her eyes that held me. Sharp. Calculating. Hauntingly familiar.

“Where am I?” My voice was rough. “Who are you?”