I pause, Violet’s face flashing through my mind again—frightened, defiant, and breaking.
“She stays alive,” I say. “She didn’t start this. But she’s going to help me finish it.”
I turn toward the exit, my boots echoing through the warehouse.
Someone tried to frame her. Someone tried to poison my world.
They’re about to learn exactly what that costs.
Chapter 20
They Only Need One Name
Violet
Asher’s words don’t fade. They settle. Sink in deep.
Bring Zephyra into my world.
I stand at the sink with my hands under running water, staring at nothing while my pulse rattles behind my eyes. I don’t have time for this. Not for him. Not for whatever game he’s playing. Ella will be home soon, and I need to be steady when she walks through the door. I need to look like myself.
But my hands won’t stop shaking.
I scrub the same plate twice, then a third time until my fingers ache, and my thoughts blur together. He saw too much. That’s the part I can’t get past. Not what he said—what heknew. The way he spoke like he’d already been watching me unravel.
My phone starts ringing, and the sound slices straight through me.
My heart jumps so hard it hurts, breath catching sharp in my throat. I stare at the screen, pulse roaring in my ears.Unknown number. My stomach drops. I already know this isn’t nothing.
I wipe my hands on a towel that does nothing to dry them and lift the phone.
“Violet Cole?” the voice is calm. Professional. Familiar in a way that makes my skin crawl.
The kitchen falls away.
I’m standing in a dorm hallway again, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, and the smell of industrial cleaner and panic in the air. Two detectives. Clipboards. That careful tone people use when they’re about to change your life.
I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s been an accident…
My stomach twists hard, dragging me back into the present.
“Yes,” I say, forcing the word out. “This is Violet.”
“This is Detective Lang with the NYPD. We need you to come into the precinct for questioning.”
Questioning?
The word lodges in my chest. My throat goes dry, but I keep my feet planted. I refuse to spiral back into that hallway. I refuse.
“About what?” I ask.
“We just have some questions, Ms. Cole,” he says evenly. “Can you come in today?”
Like I have a choice.
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
The line goes dead and I stand there for a long second, with my phone still pressed to my ear, listening to nothing. Then my screen lights up again—not a call this time.
