I tilt my head to the side.
“It’s the mayor’s mansion, and with the current one behind bars, the town council has appointed an interim mayor until an official election can take place,” she explains.
“They’re forcing you to move? Now? With everything you’re going through?” My voice pitches, indignation rising at the reminder that Richard’s actions continue to affect my best friend.
“No. Not immediately. They’re allowing me to stay until after the election. I’ll have a few months.” She takes another sip of her coffee, blowing out a harsh breath after swallowing. “If I’m being honest, the sooner I get out of there, the better. I don’t want to be in that hellhole anymore.”
I huff. “Youneverwanted to be there.”
She dips her chin, shrugging her shoulders. “That might be true, but now Ireallydon’t want to be. There’s something off about the mansion. Strange noises, and I swear I hear voices.” She shrugs. “Maybe I should have you come over and search for spirits.”
I crinkle my nose. “Pass. They’re likely to be worse than the likes of Billy.”
Nina’s leg bounces, her typically calm and collected façade slipping yet again. I’d hoped after last night that things might be turning around, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. Could her talk about the mansion being haunted have her rattled?
“How are you doing?” I ask, recognizing how loaded a question that is.
“About as good as to be expected. I’m the wife of a murderer.” She shakes her head, chuckling darkly. “In this small town, that’s grounds for exile.”
“Nobody is exiling you,” I scoff. “You aren’t the bad guy.”
She makes a strangled sound. “Come on, Ally. You and I both know that I’m the local pariah.”
The unfairness of the situation only manages to anger me more. Since Richard’s incarceration, the town has acted cold toward Nina. You’d think she was behind it all too. That she helped plot and execute everything.
“What he did has nothing to do with you,” I say, trying to keep the bite from my tone but failing miserably.
“I know thatyouknow that, but the town will believe what they want, no matter the evidence that says otherwise. The police won’t find a single shred of proof that points to my knowing what Richard was up to, but that won’t matter. I’ll still be labeled the wife that kept the villain’s secrets.” Her voice cracks. “And it’s all my fault.”
My lips turn down, sadness for Nina sweeping over me. “It isn’t.”
She sniffs. “No…it is. I played the part and fooled the entire town into thinking our marriage was strong. That we were a unit.” Her head falls back. “Nobody knew what my life under that roof was truly like. That we were less than roommates.” She huffs a humorless laugh. “I fueled their current distrust, and now I can’t go back to the school.”
“Why? You love your job. You’re good at it.” My voice rises, and my fingers curl into fists.
“There will be parents who won’t find me an acceptable counselor. They’ll petition the school board, and I’ll be removed, if I don’t resign first.”
She rambles this off as though someone has already pointed out the likelihood of that scenario playing out. It wouldn’t surprise meif Landis Jones, the school superintendent, did just that. He’s an arrogant asshole who might be a bigger gossip than Nan Jenkins and the Red Hatters. The man has no tact, yet we continue to allow him to lead our youth.
“Are you going to? Resign?” I say, to clarify my previous question.
She clicks her tongue. “What choice do I have? It’s what’s best for the kids.”
As much as I wish she were wrong, I know she’s not. Small towns can be amazing places to grow roots, but they’re also unforgiving and incredibly unfair at times. The circus that will rain down will only hurt the kids in the end.
“What can I do?” I ask, feeling helpless.
“Nothing.” Nina’s sternness catches me off guard. “I want you to do absolutely nothing. If something is said, you remain quiet.”
I blink several times, completely baffled by this Nina. It’s unlike her to take that tone with me, which only tells me how serious she is.
“I don’t want you fighting my battles. It will only put a target on your back too, Alyssa.” Her voice is softer with this delivery, but there’s still an edge of warning.
“I don’t care about any of that,” I say, eyes pinned to Nina’s hands as they twist around each other.
“You should,” she snaps. “You’re finally getting your life back, and I won’t be the reason things go south for you.”
“I don’t care about that,” I repeat, voice rising. “I care about you.” I want to get it through her head that I won’t abandon her.
