"Understood," she says, and turns on her heels and walks out of the room.
I move to follow her and see that Daithí’s in the hallway. I knew he would be. I thought for sure he’d interrupt us but instead he stood outside and waited. I’m not sure what that says about him? Does it mean he trusts his sister to take care of herself?
He takes one look at Quinn's face and his jaw sets. I watch as she whispers something to him. He nods, and we both watch as she makes her way up the stairs.
The moment she’s out of sight he whirls on me. "What the fuck did you say to her?" he hisses.
"That's between Quinn and me," I say, not letting his anger get to me. I won’t be goaded into a fight and Daithí won’t like what’ll happen if he tries to start one.
"No." He steps toward me. He's not physically intimidated by me, which not many people can say. "It stopped being between you and Quinn the moment she walked out of that room looking like that."
"She's fine,” I tell him, ignoring the pain that lances through my chest.
"She's not fine," he growls, anger has his eyes hardening and his jaw tightening. "Today was the first time in weeks where I’ve actually seen my sister happy. Today was the first good day she’s had in a fucking long time. Then she walks in here and you...” he sighs, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Lorenzo. Whatever the fuck you said to her made her so not fine, so, fuck you.”
I say nothing, I’m not able to. He’s let slip a lot more than he meant to, that’s for fucking sure, and it’s given me so many more questions.
"Quinn doesn't manipulate people." He steps closer to me, his breathing hard. "She doesn't play games and she doesn't use people. You want to know what Quinn does? She survives. She has spent her entire life in this family being torn apart and she has survived every single day of it without once becoming what they tried to make her." His eyes don't leave mine. "She is not Daire."
"I know she's not Daire."
"Do you? Because you went in there on Daire's information and you came out having done exactly what Daire wanted." He pulls in a ragged breath as he watches me. "Daire came to you at the party, she chose that moment to unload half-truths and lies, and she walked away letting her words do their work. And they did." He looks at me steadily. "How long have you been playing chess with people, Lorenzo? Does it not occur to you that you were moved?"
Fuck.
"Orla was real," I say.
"I know Orla's real." His expression is like granite. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before. "I know exactly how real Orla was."
"Then you know what happened."
"I know more than you do." His voice drops. "And I'm not telling you here, not like this. But I'll tell you this much for free." He looks at me with such disgust that I’m not sure what happens from here. "You think you know what happened to that girl? You don't. You have the story someone constructed for you. There is a different version and when you hear it, you're going to have to live with the fact that you went in there today and said whatever you said to Quinn off the back of Daire's poison."
I hold his gaze.
"Ask yourself one question," he says. "If Quinn did what you think she did? If she drove Orla Geraghty to her death the way Daire described? Why the fuck would Tony Geraghty still be standing beside my father every single day?"
I don't answer because I've asked myself this exact question and I don't have an answer that holds.
"You don't know the truth," he says. "And until you do—" He steps back. "If you hurt my sister because of Daire's lies? If you make her life in your house one more version of what she's survived in this one?" The fury in his eyes is palpable. "I will bury you."
"I believe you," I say. “I believe that you’ll try and kill me if Quinn’s harmed. But tell me something, Daithí. If the tables were turned and it was you in my position, what would you do? Hmm? I’ve got so many conflicting stories that I don’t even know where to begin to find the truth.”
"I’d believe the man I’ve known for years, the one who hasn’t ever lied to me. The man who’s my business partner and friend. I’d believe him, because he’s watched his sister be harmed in ways no one should experience in their family. You should believe the man who failed to protect her and will do everything in their power to do so now.” He walks past me toward the stairs.
I let him go, stunned into silence. I glance at Marco and see that he listened to everything that Daithí said. We’ve so many questions and no one to give us the fucking answers.
Marco drives us out of the Delaney estate and my mind is reeling from everything that I’ve learned.
“What the fuck?” I say low. Nothing makes sense.
“I won’t ask what happened with Quinn,” Marco says. “That’s between you and her, but I will say that whatever was said broke that girl. She looked utterly defeated.”
I ignore that. “What the hell are we missing?” I can’t fucking figure it out. Daithí’s words replay over and over.
If Quinn did what you think she did, why the fuck would Tony still be standing beside Ronan every day?
I've thought about this from every angle, and I can’t figure out if Quinn is guilty or not.
