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

near the back, a waiter froze with a tray of champagne.

The moderator continued.

“Tonight is unusual for us, and for the literary world.”

Graham straightened.

His hand remained on Celeste’s chair.

Celeste’s eyes glittered.

The moderator smiled.

“For nearly a year, readers have wondered about the identity of the author behind The Glass Orchard.”

A camera light continue reading …