Nila
“COME HERE, CHILD.”
All I wanted to do was escape, to be alone so I could drop the mask of defiance and indifference. It took every effort to come across contrite and fearful but not guilty and sinful.
Daniel’s death glowed inside me, giving me power. But I couldn’t deny I was tired. I needed to rest...in case I said something stupid and escalated my death from tomorrow to today.
Jethro...keep breathing.
Every time I thought of him, the image of dank mines and oppressive walls came back. I hated him trapped down there, alone, hurting.
I knew so much now. I knew about Mabel and William. I knew a secret both Bonnie and Cut didn’t know.
The secret burned a hole in my soul because what good was a secret if I died with it—especially when it would grant pain to hear it.
If I tell her, I could kill her before she tells anyone else...
My heart skipped.
Yes, I like that plan.
Bracing my shoulders, I moved toward Bonnie. She’d escorted me into her quarters, ferrying me into the lift I assumed Jasmine used to move around. I’d never been in the silver box and hated travelling even a small distance with Bonnie in such a tight space.
Jasmine.
Does she know I’m back?
Could she sense her brother’s predicament? Was she like Vaughn and in-tune with her sibling’s well-being?
Vaughn.
Could he tell I’d been hurt? Where was he? The entire drive from the airport, I’d feared he would be at Hawksridge, firing cannons and charging with some fictional cavalry to rescue me.
But he wasn’t.
I was both glad and heartbroken.
Jethro couldn’t save me this time. I would do my best—I wouldn’t die without a fight—but what if it wasn’t enough? I was more alone here than I was at the mine. At least there I was surrounded by strangers. Here, I wassurrounded by enemies.
Stop that.
It took every last reserve, but I shoved my fears deep, deep inside and embraced antagonising pompousness.
Bonnie expected me to be as broken as my arm.
She was very much mistaken.
Cocking my chin, I pranced toward her. “Did you miss me?” I eyed up her quarters. “Last time I was in here, I seem to remember I taught you seamstresses are better than flower arrangers.”
Bonnie’s rouge-painted cheeks whitened. “And I seem to recall I showed you what happened to Owen and Elisa and proved Jethro played into the hands of fate. He’s dead because of you. Congratulations.”
Goosebumps darted over my skin. I probably shouldn’t but Cut would tell her. I wanted to be the one to deliver the news. “He’s not dead. He’s alive and coming for you.”
Wishes were free. Threats were cheap. I could taunt her even knowing Jethro remained bound to a chair and lorded over by Marquise.
She fisted the top of her cane. She didn’t break decorum, merely looking a little ruffled and a lot annoyed. “I highly doubt that. How is he still alive? What exactly is the meaning of this nasty business?”
I glided forward. “You don’t deserve to know.” The pictures of Owen and Elisa still graced the walls. The overwhelming perfume of her flower arrangements poisoned the air.
