Grant

I’d barely stepped back into the house from the stables when I saw my mother.

She didn’t even wait for me to cross towards her

“Grant,” my mother snapped, her heels clicking against the marble as she rushed toward me like something urgently needed my attention.

I nodded. “Yeah, you said you needed to talk. I’m here.”

She didn’t answer, just grabbed my wrist, her manicured fingers digging in with a strange urgency that didn’t match her usual elegance. Sierra ...