He sat a respectful distance behind her. “I didn’t know.”

She let out a dry, mirthless laugh. “That was always your favorite line. You didn’t know Beatrice told me I was as intolerable as my mother. You didn’t know Julian called me a useless heiress.

You didn’t know I got into Columbia because you never bothered to open the letter. You didn’t know I called you the night of the crash.”

Alexander closed his eyes, his chest aching. “You called me?”

“Three times,” she said softly. “I wanted to come home. I wanted to apologize for our fight. Your assistant told me you were in a board meeting and could not be interrupted under any circumstances.”

Something shattered in him for good. The night of the accident, Beatrice had walked into his boardroom weeping, saying Valerie was dead. He had never questioned what came before that moment.