Page 190

I glance at Edwin.

He’s breathing harder now, staring down at the patterned rug. His jaw ticks. One hand curls into a fist.

Dr. Madsen remains calm.

“This wouldn’t be a one-time occurrence. Levels this high suggest Harold would have been exposed to the chemical repeatedly over the course of several months.”

Edwin’s face pales as it hardens with anger. The fist on his thigh tightens further. I place my hand over it, trying to stop the tremor building in him.

“What is it?” I whisper.

He’s lost in his head.

Wallace continues talking with the doctor.

“Harold was bedridden for months. Homebound since Vanessa’s death. Very few people had access to him.”

Edwin’s head snaps up. “Frank.”

Everyone looks at him.

“Frank had access to him. Coming over all the time with his unnecessary counseling. I saw him with eye drops…” His voice breaks into a forced breath of disbelief. He stands abruptly, taking a few steps, one hand dragging through his hair, the other still clenched. “All that time. And knowing what we know now.” He turns, his gaze cutting to Wallace. “It makes sense.”

Then he storms off.

“Edwin!” Wallace bellows.

Edwin stops short of the front door. His back is rigid. His shoulders lifted like he’s bracing for a hit.

Wallace stands and follows, the patience leaving his face.

“Frank will be dealt with after the vote for Sovereign is over. You will not jeopardize your position by acting against the Order.”

Too many thoughts race at once, and I don’t know which thread to follow.

I stayed in Frank’s home. I felt safe with him. How could he be a killer? He’s a reverend.

And then I remember how easily my parents wore their masks. People are good at hiding their secrets.

I move towards Edwin, hoping to calm him down.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to take another breath, let alone live another day,” he says.

Wallace holds his ground.

“There are methods for handling this. Your impulsiveness is a detriment to the Crotavere legacy.”

Edwin’s mouth twists, a flash of pain cutting through his anger.

“The Crotavere legacy is already fucked.”

Tristan appears in the doorway, drawn by the raised voices.

“What’s all the yelling about?” he asks.

Edwin steps close to him and says something I can’t hear, but it’s clearly urgent. Tristan’s face tightens, then he nods.

Edwin leaves the parlor, heading for the back of the house. Tristan returns upstairs. The tension eases slightly in their absence.