She doesn’t say another word, so I guess this conversation is done.
She knows she needs to keep quiet if she doesn’t want to get implicated. And I have no intention of telling anyone either because that would put me in danger as well.
“It’s time for breakfast now. Go to the women’s room. Stay low. Enjoy your morning.”
“But what about that poor girl?” she asks.
“The elders who helps us will take care of it,” I say.
“You mean get rid of her body.” She raises a brow.
I place a hand on her shoulder. “Be more careful next time.”
She shrugs me off, which I take as a cue to go.
The more time we spend together huddled in the dark, the more suspicion we draw to ourselves. And I’m not about to let one mishandled poisoning ruin my rise to power.
Natalie
“Mom?” I mutter.
She won’t look at me.
In fact, she hasn’t looked at any of the ladies in the women’s room since she came in. She’s been staring at her food the entire time, and everything’s gone untouched. What’s going on?
“Mom?” I say as I lean in. “Are you okay?”
She still doesn’t reply, but she’s clutching her dress all bunched up in her hands. Something’s definitely not right. Does this have something to do with the woman who was found dead in the president’s bed this morning? The other matriarchs were talking about it from the second they stepped into the room. Apparently, Agatha was tasked with the cleanup and that’s how they know.
But they’re not seeing what I’m seeing right now. My mom isn’t okay.
“Mom!” I grab her arm, and she seems to snap out of it.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” I ask, raising my brow to insinuate I want to know more even though I won’t say that out loud in front of these other women.
Her lips part, and she looks at me for a second and then glances at the other ladies who have also suddenly noticed she’s not been speaking. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She clears her throat. “I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“You do look a bit pale, Marsha. Are you sure you’re okay?” Abigail asks her.
My mother’s body grows rigid, and I can tell she’s having a hard time. I have to intervene.
I grab her arm and pull her up with me. “I think you should go back to your room to rest.”
My mother stammers, but Abigail interjects, “Oh, that’s a great idea.”
“I’ll take her. She’s still a little unstable from the recovery, so best someone go with her up the stairs,” I say, lifting her. My mother’s wobbly body helps aid me in my lie.
“That’s lovely of you to do,” Meghan says.
“Yeah, very daughter-like,” Trisha says, rolling her eyes. “Have fun upstairs all by yourselves. We’ll be here, playing a game.”
“Thank you,” I say as I quickly rush off with my mother’s arm locked through mine. I close the door behind us and walk with her up the stairs.
“Wait,” Mom says as we get to the top of the stairs. “I need a minute.” She bends over, leaning on her knees as she breathes out loud. “That place was suffocating.”
“I could tell,” I reply.
She looks up at me, but the sheer terror in her eyes makes my heart jump. “That girl didn’t die by accident.”
My eyes widen, and I lean in so we can whisper. She just admitted she murdered someone. If anyone hears this, she’s dead. “What happened? I thought the president might’ve smothered her in her sleep or something.”
She shakes her head. “The vials …”
She immediately runs off toward her room, and I follow her as fast as I can. She dives underneath her bed and fishes out a box, opening it up. It’s filled with hundreds of vials.
“Wow.” I didn’t know she had that many. “But the girl … What does she …?” I frown, but then I realize what she was actually doing. “You were poisoning him?”
She puts a finger against her lips, and it stops me from saying another word.
Now it all starts to make sense. The secretive behavior at every party. The trips she made in the middle of the night. How long has she been making these and where? Without anyone noticing?
“I thought the vial you gave to Emmy was the only one you had,” I mutter as I watch her tuck all the vials into her pockets. “How long have you been doing this?”
“For some time now,” she answers, looking me dead in the eyes. “And you know exactly why.”
Chills settle in my bones.
Yes, I know exactly why.
My father has always been the one to make her suffer, so it would make sense she’d want to kill him, and poison is the easiest way to get rid of someone without anyone knowing you committed murder.
But this is different. No one makes this much poison to just kill one person.