Page 121 of A Violet Obsession

And I’ve known some.

“No cookies today?” I ask.

I try to keep it light. I do. But some of my anger must slip through because something flashes on her face—there, then gone.

“No.” She sets the towel down. “But I made a salad, if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry.” I stay on my feet. “And I have to talk fast. There’s a warrant out for my arrest, and I need to be out of the state by tonight.”

“A warrant—” Trevor turns to me, his brow creased with worry. “Lily, you can’t run. We’ll help you get a lawyer. You’re innocent, and we will fight this.”

I look at him. I make myself look right at him and harden my heart.

“You can both drop the act.”

He blinks at me like I’ve switched to another language. He actually looks hurt.

But Dawn’s entire demeanor changes.

It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t gasp or flinch. She doesn’t do any of the things I’ve always assumed guilty people do. She just straightens. Her spine. Her shoulders. The line of her mouth. Like someone reached between her shoulder blades, and pulled a string to draw her up tall.

The soft, worried woman disappears, and the person standing in the kitchen is someone I’ve never met before.

“What do you know?” Even the voice is unfamiliar. Bored, almost. “I knew something was off when you called. Even while you were doing your whole butter-wouldn’t-melt routine.”

My pulse is going so hard I can feel it in my throat. “You’d know all about putting on an act.”

“My poor girl.” Dawn pitches her voice up into a breathy falsetto, eyes round and helpless, one hand fluttering at her chest. “Oh, I’m so worried, sweetheart, are you okay? That one?”

“Dawn.” Trevor’s head swings between us. “Dawn, why would you—why are you talking like that?”

“Shut up, Trevor.”

I need her talking, I remind myself. I can be sick about it later.

“I know what you did.” I keep my voice level by sheer will. “You drugged me, had me hypnotized. You used me to steal the Veridian Amethyst, and then you set me up to take the fall for it.”

“That’s insane.” Trevor’s voice splinters. “Lily… Dawn, tell her. Tell her that’s crazy.”

Dawn doesn’t tell him anything.

She tips her head, studying me, and her eyes flick to the counter beside her. To the chef’s knife, lying in a pile of half-chopped peppers.

Suddenly, I am profoundly grateful for the weight of the gun sitting against my ribs in the pocket of the hoodie—a statement I never thought I’d make in a million years.

“Where is it?” Dawn asks.

“My God!” Trevor stares in horror at his wife.

Dawn rounds on her husband, and what are clearly years of frustration boil out of her. “You are pathetic. I cannot believe I have put up with this—with you—for as long as I have.” She jerks her chin at me without looking away from him. “Your precious Lily isn’t the helpless little thing you’ve always needed her to be. And it is disgusting, the way you’ve panted after her all these years.”

“I didn’t…that’s not…” Trevor’s face has gone gray. “I never panted.“

“You did.” Then she turns to me. “And you loved it. The little dresses, looking like some sort of reject from the Renaissance Fair, with your tits spilling out, and those big sad eyes you’d pull. Oh, Trevor, I need your help. You’re the only one who understands me.”

“Stop it.” My voice comes out thin.

“Your innocent act never worked on me. Not once.” She’s enjoying this. I can see it plainly on her face. Whatever’s been eating her for years, she’s finally getting to throw at me. “You know, when he first dragged you home, I felt sorry for you. The poor little orphan. I really did. I thought we’ll do a good thing.” Her mouth twists. “Then you kept getting older, and it became very clear, that mentor wasn’t the only role my husband had in mind.”