s. Karley woke to it, her mouth dry, her head pounding,

pt less than six hours, fractured by fever dreams an

bell chi

ell on the front step, dressed in mourning black that might have been fashion choice

se button. She didn't ha

in the center of the living room, examining the space with the critical eye of

he mess in the kitchen. The broken phone. My son m

came out rough, barely audibl

arley's unbrushed hair to her bare feet to th

the staff. "Which is why I'

and herbs and something rotting, sweet and foul together. A black

is t

space. Which, legally, she did. The house was held in Mcconnell family trust. "My personal physician's recipe. Bon

was making her gag, her already f

m sorry, I r

ward, her face contorted with a hatred that seemed to have no bottom. "Do you have any idea what your purpose is now, Karley? You're not a wife in any meaningful

elt them in her chest, in her stomach, in the

she whispered. "He l

was an ugly sound

d the table with the grace of a predator. "My son has always had a type: healthy, accommodat

smell her perfume, something heavy and floral th

Brenda

can

h open. She gestured to the staff, and suddenly there were hands on Karley's should

her, choking her, and then the liquid w

ed to turn her head. The soup spilled dow

at the stain on her own shoe-a droplet of

, connected with Karley's cheek with

t pooling in her mouth, dripping from her lip. S

aming. "You'll kill my daughter wi

nt door

tion. He took in the scene-his mother panting with rage, his wife bleeding on the floor, the

e was flat. "What

husband. At the man who had pr

ched hand, and went to his mother. Put an arm around her shoulders. Le

ey heard him say. "The staff can handle

ast thing she felt was the cold marble against her cheek