“You didn’t ask for the truth either,” Silas says. “But you’re getting it.”
Dad’s nostrils flare as he flies to his feet. “If you think I’m going to stand here and be lectured by the man whose brother?—”
I snap. “Do not finish that sentence.”
He freezes.
“You don’t get to blame Dominic for anything. You don’t get to weaponize his death. You don’t get to repeat Abi’s script like it’s truth.”
Dad looks between us, rattled.
“Dad,” I say softer, but still firm, “I’m not a child. I know whom I love. I know what’s healthy for me. I know what isn’t. Abi isn’t. And the only reason you don’t see that is because she made sure you wouldn’t.”
Silas adds, low and steady, “She’s been lying to you, your whole relationship."
Chad’s voice cracks. “Lying about what, exactly?”
I inhale.
“About Minxy,” I start. “About Talon. About how Dominic died. About the man she pays every month to keep her secrets quiet.”
His head snaps up. “What payments?”
Silas pulls his phone from his pocket and shows him the screen. “Jensen Rowe.”
Dad’s face falls, recognition.
“You know him,” I say.
“He…Abi mentioned him once or twice. Said he was an old friend. She has him do odds and ends jobs for her.”
“He’s not a friend,” Silas says. “He’s her ex and dangerous. We have good reason to believe he helped Abi stage Dominic’s death to look like a suicide. When in fact it wasn’t.”
Dad looks physically ill. “No. No, that’s… You’re accusing her of murder.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” I say. “She’s dangerous. She’s hurt every person who got in her way. She succeeded with Dominic and Todd. She almost succeeded with Minxy.”
His breathing stutters. Sweat beads at his hairline. He sinks onto the bench like his knees gave out. “I need… I need to think,” he whispers.
Silas crouches down in front of him. Not threatening, just steady.
“Think fast,” he says. “Because Abi is unraveling. And when she unravels, she’s gonna lash out at whoever’s closest.”
Dad’s eyes lift to mine. For the first time in years, he looks truly scared.
“I didn’t know,” he says quietly. “Penelope… I didn’t know any of this.”
“I know,” I whisper. “It wasn’t your fault. That’s why I’m telling you.”
He nods once. “Meet me here tomorrow. Two p.m. I need everything. Proof, records, bank statements. Whatever you have.”
“I’ll bring it,” I say.
“And Penelope?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t go near the house. Don’t go near her.”
