Chapter 1

My husband's best friend since childhood, Vanessa Brooks, claimed to be severely nearsighted.

At dinner with a group of friends, she dropped straight into my husband's lap. A second later, she jumped up with a theatrical gasp.

"Oh my God, Claire, I'm so sorry! My eyesight is terrible. I honestly thought the chair was empty!"

The $150,000 wedding gown I had chosen was shredded while I was away.

When I confronted her, she looked ready to cry.

"Claire, I can barely tell clothes apart without my contacts. It was white, so I thought it was one of the new cleaning rags."

Her "severe nearsightedness" became an all-purpose excuse. She wore my husband's shirts. She slept in my husband's bed.

Then, when I was nine months pregnant and rolling on the floor in agony, I called Ethan for help.

Vanessa secretly ended the call.

"Oops. I couldn't read the caller ID. I thought it was a telemarketer."

I bled to death before anyone came. My baby died with me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the dinner where Vanessa had sat on Ethan's lap.

She was still cooing, "I really thought nobody was sitting there."

I picked up the cup of scalding ginseng tea beside me and threw it in her face without hesitation.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I was just diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson's. I can't control my hands. You don't mind, do you?"

The scalding tea splashed across Vanessa's chest.

Her scream tore through the private dining room.

Ethan Caldwell shoved her off his lap, leaped to his feet, and roared at me.

"Claire Bennett, have you lost your mind? Vanessa made an innocent mistake because she couldn't see, and you threw boiling water on her!"

I slammed the empty cup onto the table.

"I told you. I have Parkinson's. My hands shake. I can't control them."

I raised my right hand and made it tremble violently in midair.

Vanessa clutched the angry red skin above her neckline as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Claire, I know you don't like me. But I really am severely nearsighted. I forgot my contacts, so I sat in the wrong place. If you don't want me here, I'll leave."

Our friends immediately turned on me.

"Claire, you're being ridiculously petty. Vanessa and Ethan have known each other since kindergarten. So she sat on his lap for one second. Who cares?"

"Her prescription is minus eight. She didn't do it on purpose."

"And now you're pretending to have Parkinson's? You're barely thirty. Who do you expect to believe that?"

I grabbed the platter of spicy poached fish that had just arrived.

With one flick of my wrist, I dumped the whole thing, broth, chili oil, peppercorns and all, over the man who had just spoken. His custom Italian suit disappeared under a slick coat of red.

"Oops. My hand shook again."

He stared at his ruined $15,000 suit, then jumped up cursing as he desperately brushed chilies and peppercorns off the fabric.

The room went silent.

Ethan lunged at me and grabbed my wrist.

"Are you finished? Apologize to Vanessa and Derek right now!"

I slapped him across the face.

The crack echoed through the room.

"Tremor. Couldn't help it."

Ethan covered his cheek and stared at me in disbelief.

Vanessa rushed over and wrapped both hands around his arm. Tears slid down her cheeks without smudging her mascara.

"Ethan, please don't blame Claire. This is all my fault. If I were completely blind, I wouldn't keep upsetting her, and the two of you wouldn't fight because of me."

I nodded.

"If you're that blind, I'll take you to an ophthalmologist right now. Ethan, you can take me to neurology. My Parkinson's clearly needs immediate treatment."

Ethan clenched his teeth.

"Claire, don't push it."

I pulled out my phone and called 911.

"Hi, we're in the private dining room at The Wellington. One person has been scalded, another is hyperventilating over a ruined suit, and we have a visually impaired woman who apparently can't tell a grown man from an empty chair. We need an ambulance."

I ended the call, pulled out my chair, and sat down.

"Nobody leaves. Every sick person in this room is going to the hospital."