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.
The reunion party was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, it had become a crime scene. As the police tape went up, Alma caught
stood at the center, her face a mask of cold perfection. She straightened her silk dress, her eyes darting toward the balcony. She was the queen of this compound, and queens didn't let scandals ruin their reign. One slip is all it takes
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. stood at the center, her face a mask of cold perfection
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.”
was pacing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She knew too much about the arguments overheard in the powder room.
, usually the rock of the group, was staring at her husband, Karim. The look between them wasn't one of grief; it was a silent pact of silence.