Only an hour ago, a body had plummeted from the balcony of a nearby penthouse. The scream was still ringing in Alma’s ears—a jagged sound that sliced through the laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses. Now, the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers danced across her white marble walls.
Alma looked down at her phone. A message from an unknown number glowed on the screen: “The past doesn’t stay buried in the garden, Alma. It’s sitting at your dinner table.” Only an hour ago, a body had plummeted
As the police tape went up, Alma caught Falak’s eye across the lawn. For the first time in years, the "Queen" looked afraid. Alma realized that in a world of stilettos, everyone is walking on a thin, dangerous edge. One slip is all it takes. Alma looked down at her phone