I don’t apologize. Instead, I lean into it. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, hope I didn’t offend you with my truth.”
“Better than a lie.” She throws right back. “Wouldn’t you say?” She shrugs. “It’s good to know where you stand, also, I wouldn’t let you get near me anyways, I have standards.”
Axel whistles low in his throat. “So, this is the part where I tell you why I needed both of you and pray I really don’t get fired. Again, need I remind you; I genuinely like working and bossing people around and I’m not made for life on the streets.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, your dad’s net worth is half a billion, you’re fine.”
She gasps.
Ten fucking grand.
Something really doesn’t add up. Again. I’m doubting what I know. I’m doubting what she did. And I hate that she’s just standing there like some fucking victim! Shit!
“Anyways, now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” he grumbles, “it’s dual narration for the end of the book, and Steven’s out, so you’re in.” He points at me.
I glare. “In what?”
“Studio, dumbass,” she mutters. “What did you think we did here?”
File papers? I don’t know. I mean I know what they do here, I just thought she was more an administrative assistant. “You’re a narrator?”
“Yes. Some people actually like my voice.”
“Doubtful.” I smirk. “It’s more or less like…nails but saying on a chalkboard would be too kind.”
“This is fun, everyone having fun?” Axel claps his hands. “I’m getting fired aren’t I? Look I’m desperate. I’m short, I need to hire more people, and Steven is being a pussy about his cold like corona came back and sent him into hibernation. Just read the last ten chapters. Please. And finish the book off live like we do when we end, answer some questions, be nice, and I’ll pay you double.” He’s eyeing her then turns to me. “And you, well I won’t tell my dad or yours and I’ll buy you drinks after and not kill you. Deal?”
“How could I resist?” I say dryly.
No chance in hell am I missing this. There’s no way she even compares to the other narrators I’ve heard here, voices like… I pause.
No. I laugh.
“Something funny?” she asks.
“No, nothing, I’m just surprised this is your job, someone who can’t even tell the truth gets to read truths out loud for money. It’s ironic in a way right?”
She takes a deep breath and shoves past me. “Try not to mess up. Some of us have to make money and weren’t born with a silver spoon.”
“Some of us also didn’t go to prison for three years.”
She stumbles. “Three?”
“Three.” I breeze past her, she knows nothing. “Years.”
Her eyes fill with tears. Oh please, like she feels sorry for me, she’s the one who said I had the gun, she’s the one who said I pulled the trigger out of self-defense when it was my own father and hers in that room.
Axels ignores us and points down the hall. “Room two? Both of you need to set up, and if you want a disguise it’s fine, she does it all the time.”
My entire body stills. “She does?”
The she in question walks past me and puts on a familiar black cap and black face mask. I’m frozen in spot. I can’t breathe. I can only stare as she takes a seat and puts on her headphones and stares into the computer screen and waves then starts typing away answering questions.
I don’t have to ask.
I already know.
The person L and Lilah are one in the same.
