She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

my lap.

“The author has assigned all proceeds to the trust restitution fund.”

Celeste Vale stepped through the side door.

The room went rigid.

She wore navy wool.

No satin.

No diamonds.

No smile.

She carried a manuscript box in both hands.

A few women whispered.

One person hissed.

Celeste heard it.

She deserved it.

She kept walking anyway.

She stopped at the microphone,continue reading …