Sophia woke to her phone buzzing.

The sun peeked its head through the narrow gap in their curtains, and she squinted, fumbling for her phone. Just past six o'clock. Next to her, Finn was lying on his stomach, his lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. A single golden curl fell into his eyes. She pushed it back gently, and he murmured in his sleep.

She kissed his forehead, slipping out of the bed.

Something warmed in her chest, a tangled mess of happiness and contentment, and she shoved on clothes at random. An oversized white top. A green puffer. Jeans. Boots. Half of it was Finn's, and the other half probably belonged to Gemma, but she didn't think either of them would mind.

Her phone buzzed again.

Sophia slipped out into the crisp winter morning. It wasn't a far walk to the barn. She could already see fresh boot prints in the snow — Cam's, from the look of it — but there was nobody inside the wooden building. She stalked up the row of stalls until her eyes landed on a white horse.

"Good morning, baby," she crooned.

Opus stuck her head out, allowing Sophia to pat her nose. Unlike Una, who seemed to accept all affection as her due, the small white horse looked at Sophia fondly. As if her attention was a miracle.

Sophia's phone rang again. She sighed. Well, there was no putting it off any longer, was there? She put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Sophia." Callie's voice was cool. "How are you this morning?"

Hungover. "Good, thanks. And you?"

"Terrible," Callie said crisply. "Have you checked your social media this morning?"

Sophia lowered her hand. "No." A terrible pit opened in her stomach. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Callie's voice was clipped. "I'll give you the short version. There's a photo of you circulating last night at a barn dance. The photo is..." She paused, and Sophia could hear nails drumming on a desk. "Well, you're doing a keg stand in front of a stag's head. I don't need to tell you that some of your more left-wing fans aren't happy."

Oh, god: the keg stand. Sophia half-closed her eyes; she'd completely forgotten about that. Garrett had talked her into it after her third cider. She hadn't realized anyone had taken a video of it, but she should have considered it.

She should have been smarter.

"I'm so sorry, Callie," Sophia said. "It won't happen again."

Callie's voice was grim. "There's more."

"There is?"

"Kit released a video last night. It's a reel, actually, with video footage of your relationship." Callie sniffed. "Terrible cinematography, but it's getting a lot of traction on socials. He's asking you to give him another chance, and there's a lot of support from your fans." More nail drumming. "I'm sure you can see where this is leading."

Sophia chewed on a fingernail. "Go on."

"Break things off with Finn."

She paused. "Excuse me?"

"Get rid of him," Callie said.

"But I... I can't." She felt numb. "We're dating."

"I thought it was a PR stunt."

"Not anymore." Sophia dug the toe of her boot into the ground, grinding mud into the white snow. "I really like him."

Callie sighed. "Well, he's bad for your ratings, darling. Your fans are rallying behind Kit. This is the narrative that they want to see."

"But I'm not a narrative," Sophia said. "I'm not a story, or a reality television show." Her throat felt tight. "I'm a person. You can't seriously be suggesting that I base my personal life on the opinion of strangers."

"You're a brand, Sophia," Callie said. "I didn't think I needed to explain that to you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Finn Hoag is bad for business."

Sophia massaged her temples. Any lingering happiness had evaporated, leaving only a cold, bleak emptiness in its wake. She should have known it was too good to be true. These things always were.

She dropped her hand. "What happens if I stay with Finn?"

"Then you'll continue to lose followers," Callie said. "I'm sorry, Sophia, but I'll have no choice but to terminate our contract."

She gripped the frozen fence. "The paperwork is signed. You've already announced that I'm the new face of the perfume."

"Oh, Sophia," Callie said. "Do you seriously think I don't have a back-up option? There are a dozen girls eager to take your place. No, hundreds." The nail drumming stopped. "I'm not trying to be unkind, darling. I'm just being honest. That's business."

Sophia swallowed. "I understand."

"Look," Callie said, "I've got to run, but let me know what you decide." Her voice softened. "We all make sacrifices, Sophia. Don't make the mistake of choosing a man over your career. You'll only regret it later."

She hung up the phone.

Sophia wandered out of the barn, staring out at the empty fields. Winter had tightened its icy fingers around the world, choking the life out of the crops. Everything was shades of brown and dull grey. A lone haybale sat in the center, dusted with snow.

Her eyes stung.

She thought of Finn lying a few hundred feet away, his hair mussed with sleep. Would he be awake by now? Would he wonder where she went? No, Sophia realized; Finn trusted her. He would assume she'd gone to grab pastries, or to call a friend. He was the type to give his heart away gladly, confident that the other person would take care of it.

The thought made her throat ache.

She couldn't break up with him; it would break her in the process. But she'd worked hard for the Estrella contract, and it was paying for her university.

She needed time to think.

To decide.

Sophia shot a quick text to Gemma. Odd question, but can I borrow your car?

Gemma's response was immediate.

Are you still at the house?! Did you stay the night?

Sophia swallowed.

Yes, she wrote. Will explain later xo

Her phone pinged.

No need to explain — I get the picture ;) Car is yours! Keys are in it.

Sophia pocketed her phone, fighting a wave of guilt. Why did the whole Hoag family have to be so god damn nice? Why couldn't she have discovered that they embezzled money and kept bodies in their freezer?

The world was cruel.

Cruel and unfair.

She hopped into the driver's seat, pushing the truck into gear. It wasn't a long drive to the Peters' place, but it was slow-going today; Gemma's car complained each time she took an icy back road too quickly, skidding and sliding like a nervous horse. Then she was caught behind a slow-moving snowplow. And then a group of slow-moving cows.

Finally, Sophia pulled up to the house.

She frowned, parking the car. There was a car outside the house. And not just any car: a shiny Bentley. Was Leo visiting? And why on earth was he driving a Bentley?

She fumbled for her keys, unlocking the front door. Tabby materialized instantly, holding a cup of steaming green tea.

"Sophia." Her face was pinched. "Where were you?"

Oh. Oops.

"Did I forget to text?" Sophia crouched down, scratching a dog's chin. "Sorry. I stayed at Finn's place." She straightened. "Speaking of which, I need to talk to you."

"Okay." Tabby cast a worried glance behind her. "Look, can I go first?"

Sophia pulled off a boot. "Can it wait? This is important."

"I don't think—"

"It's about Finn," Sophia cut in.

"Wonderful. But Soph—"

"And Estrella."

"Sophia," Tabby said, exasperated. "Will you listen to me, please?"

"Whose car is that out front, by the way?"

Tabby shifted her weight, almost sloshing tea on to the carpet. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's—"

"Hi, darling," a voice called. "I wanted to surprise you."

Sophia stiffened.

A dark-haired man strode into the hallway, wreathed in a cloud of expensive perfume. Sophia blinked. No. Surely she was seeing things. But then the man dusted off his jacket, his signet ring flashing in the morning light, and she was sure.

Kit.

He was here.