"Though I have to wonder—a college girl still paying off student loans, still relying on donors just to finish her degree... wearing a twenty-million-dollar necklace around her neck. Doesn't that seem a little off?"

Yvonne's face turned scarlet. Her eyes reddened, and her hands trembled as she reached for the clasp.

"I'm sorry, Leonora. I know I don't deserve it. I had no idea Warren would give me something this expensive."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she spoke, the picture of wounded innocence.

Whispers erupted around us.

"No way—college students are that extravagant now? Wearing jewelry worth millions while collecting financial aid?"

"I heard she's on a merit scholarship too. Who knows how she got that."

"She's supposed to be broke? That dress alone costs thousands. Something doesn't add up."

"You think she's someone's kept woman?"

"Isn't that Mr. Henson? Doesn't he have a wife?"

The murmurs grew louder and louder.

Yvonne lifted her tear-streaked face to mine. "I'm sorry, Leonora. But today's my graduation. Warren brought me here to see what this world was like."

"I've never been to anything like this before. I don't belong here. I'll leave right now."

"I'll take off this dress and return it to Warren."

"And the necklace—I'll give it back to you."

"I may be a poor student, but if something isn't mine, I won't take a single thing."

With that, she set her jaw and reached behind her back for the zipper of her dress.

He'd barely pulled the strap down before Warren shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Yvonne's shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Don't move. Stop crying. If you cry any more, you won't look pretty for your graduation photos."

Then he turned and shot me a warning look. "Leonora, that's enough. Today is Yvonne's graduation. I brought her here. The necklace was my graduation gift to her."

My chest seized like something had lodged itself behind my ribs. I couldn't breathe. I clenched my jaw and stared at him. "You and Yvonne. You don't think you owe me an explanation?"

"She's your lover? Then what am I?"

He barely glanced at me, his tone dismissive. "Leonora, Yvonne is just a twenty-year-old girl. Do you really have to be this petty?"

"It's nothing more than a young girl's innocent admiration. I indulged one small wish of hers. What's the big deal? You're making a scene."