“You have unfinished business here,” Greg says, averting eye contact still. “You're welcome home anytime darling but I think you're happier here.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I'm not,” I whine, sounding like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Flore, pack.” Greg says, “I'll take care of our bags.”

“Let me call our private jet for you, please it'll make Thalia feel better.” Knox offers, and I scream, rising to my feet. Both he and Greg are making decisions for me, ye ...