Celeste rambles on, but I watch Grace twisting her fingers in her lap as she listens. She has that nervous energy about her again. She was doing so well playing her role before this morning.
Grace is mostly quiet as we eat, seemingly listening intently while Dove goes on and on about her latest brand campaign and how successful it was. But I know something’s up.
After breakfast, we make our way to our first item on our itinerary.
A couple’s treatment isn't something I'd normally partake in, but no isn’t an acceptable answer for my mother. Bonding for all the couples at the retreat is mandatory, because apparently forced intimacy builds authentic connection.
I drum my fingers against my thigh as we're led into a dimly lit room that smells like sandalwood and something floral. Candles flicker along the perimeter, casting dancing shadows across the bamboo walls.
Grace is still acting strange and avoiding telling me why. Is it because she woke up with her body pressed against mine? Or did something happen during yoga? She's got that look, shoulders hunched, eyes distant, like she's retreating somewhere I can't follow.
The guide for our couple’s treatment introduces herself as Dewi, her voice soft and melodic. She explains that the sound bath will "align our energies" and "create resonance between partners." I barely suppress an eye roll.
This is my family's business. Sanctum built its empire on wellness bullshit like this—chakras and vibrations and holistic healing that's really just expensive placebos wrapped in luxury packaging.
But if it keeps my mother off our backs, I'll sit through it.
"Please, face each other," Dewi instructs. "Legs crossed. Palms open on your knees. Eyes closed."
Grace settles across from me, close enough that our knees almost touch. She won't meet my eyes.
I mirror her position, letting my palms rest upward on my thighs. The pose feels ridiculous, performative. But I close my eyes anyway.
Dewi begins, the first note of the singing bowl reverberating through the space. The sound wraps around us, low and resonant, vibrating in my chest.
Grace's breathing is uneven. Shallow. Wrong.
I count to ten. The sound shifts, layers building. My mother probably thinks this is profound. I think it's a waste of?—
"What's wrong?"
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My eyes open, finding Grace's already on me.
Her hazel gaze flickers with something I can't name. "Nothing."
"You're lying again."
"The treatment?—"
"Can wait." I lean forward slightly, closing the space between us. "Talk to me."
"Silence is normally recommended during—" I slice my hand through the air, silencing Dewi. The bowls abruptly stop, as does Dewi's sentence.
"Give us a moment."
She doesn't respond, just standing and exiting quickly.
"Tell me what's going on," I demand. "Is it because you woke up with your body wrapped around mine?"
She blushes, but shakes her head.
"Was it yoga?"
She sighs, looking down before meeting my gaze again. "Your mother had a talk with me after."
Fuck.I didn't want her to have alone time with Celeste quite yet. My mother can be difficult in her best of times.
"What did she say?"
