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She swallowed and lifted her chin. “I would never…tolerate…that either, sir.”
I stared her down. To her credit, she met my gaze.
“I hope not,” I said.
I wanted to say more. But I couldn’t make any accusations outright, not without the proof Ethan said we needed.
Proof I intended to find.
If Ella suspected her stepsister had set her up, then I was darn well going to use every resource in my arsenal to get to the truth.
THIRTY-ONE
ella
I wasin a constant state of motion. If I held still for too long, my thoughts would catch up with me, so I busied myself in the only way I could:
Scrubbing.
Cleaning.
Washing.
Everything.
I emptied every dish from its cupboard and wiped every surface. I scrubbed the grout in the bathroom with a toothbrush. I even vacuumed the windowsills and wiped the glass, which hadn’t been done since Chloe and I had moved in.
It all needed to be done. Why not now?
Hawk was keeping his distance, and that fact was more painful than I thought it would be.
I wanted to call him, to hear his voice. I wanted to see the mirth in his eyes. See which socks he was wearing today.
But I couldn’t, not until we figured this out. I had to keep myself busy.
There wasn’t much else I could do.
Kneeling in front of the pantry door, I scrubbed a stubborn black streak on the wood. I wasn’t sure how or when it had gotten there—just that it had to go.
Footsteps shuffled in on the confined kitchen floor behind me.
“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Chloe said.
Though I couldn’t see her, I heard the arms-folded displeasure in her tone.
I peered over my shoulder to find my roommate in that exact pose. Arms folded, hip slumped against the counter, grimacing down at me.
“Like what?” I paused and rested my hands on my knees.
“Like—this busy. You’ve been cleaning for days. Exerting yourself, wiping baseboards and walls, scouring drains. We can see out of our windows now,” she added with a laugh. “I don’t think you’ve held still since I got back from Springville.”
Chloe had gone home Christmas Day and had only gotten in a few days ago on New Year’s Eve.
It’d been a week since the accusation. Since Hawk had police pouring through every inch of surveillance feed they could.
He’d tried but been unable to get warrants to search Pris’s or Stina’s dwelling, so he hired a private investigator whom he had tailing both women. And he kept me apprised of his progress in short texts at theend of every day.
Hawk: I’m not sure if we can keep in touch like this, but I can’t stand the thought of not talking to you.
