She doesn’t want you anymore. Denying it isn’t going to help.” Regina was smiling as if she were simply telling him what he needed to hear, and not being cruel. It was after midnight. Regina had called and told him Viv was missing, and Henley had gone into the woods to look for her. He’d checked the cottage, and Regina had followed him inside and cornered him. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Regina, not with anyone. He sat hunched at the edge of the bed—a plastic-coated mattress on a rusted metal frame—his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his fists. The lantern was casting strange shadows and illuminating the decay, the broken things that were better left hidden. Regina wore a short silk robe over a nightgown he could almost see through. Her robe was loosely tied and she was playing with the belt, slowly undoing the knot, tying it again, sliding the silk strip between her fingers. “For what it’s worth,” she said, “I don’t know what she sees in Royals.
