I stood up from my chair to give Harry a hug, but as I did, the lighting highlighted my upper cheekbone, the rounded spot just below my eye. I watched as Harry’s gaze ran across my face. He could see the light bruise I was hiding, could see the purple and blue under the surface of my skin, bleeding through the pancake makeup. “Evelyn...” he said. He put his thumb up to my face, as if he needed to feel it to know it was real. “Harry, don’t.” “Tl kill him.” “No, you won't.” “We're best friends, Evelyn. Me and you.” “I know,” I said. “I know that.” “You said best friends tell each other everything.” “And you knew it was bullshit when I said it.” I stared at him as he stared at me. “Let me help,” he said. “What can I do?” “You can make sure I look better than Celia, better than all of ’em, in the dailies.” “That’s not what I mean.” “But it’s all you can do.” “Evelyn...” I kept my upper lip stiff. “[There’s no move here, Harry.” He understood what I meant. I couldn’t leave Don Adler. “I could talk to Ari.” “T love him,” I said, turning away and clipping my earrings on. It was the truth. Don and I had problems, but so did a lot of people. And he was the only man who had ever ignited something in me. Sometimes I hated myself for wanting him, for finding myself brightening up when his attention was on me, for still needing his