Too late, I realize my mistake. The most recent one, anyway.
Violet can feel my emotions—the stronger they are, the easier it is for her to interpret them.
In the case of my flaming-hot guilt, I may as well be wearing a neon sign around my neck.
“Did you… have something to do with this?” Her eyes fill with tears—most assuredlynothappy ones this time—and her mouth parts in an unspoken accusation.
“I didn’t… I mean, it’s not what you think. It… it was merely a conversation. A long overdue one, at that.”
She doesn’t respond. Just stares at me with that wounded look. Sadness, at first. Then shock. Then rage, all of it flickering through her eyes in a heartbeat.
I fold my arms across my chest. “He’s not a good person, Mushroom. You must realize that.”
“What did youdo?” she demands.
“Nothing too horrifying, I assure you. Brandt and I merely had a conversation about some of his recent indiscretions, of which there are a great many. Actually, I was hoping we could talk about that later. With Olivy’s help, I discovered—”
“Olivy? You dragged my sister into this, too?” She reaches for her phone, presumably to call the spooky witch, but I stay her hand.
“Your sister merely did some digging into Remington’s business dealings. She has nothing to do with my meeting with him.”
“Business dealings?”
“As it turns out, Remington’s been singing off on all manner of shell loans for companies headed by his college cohorts. The realtor is involved as well. Nathan? Oh, yes. They’re thick as thieves, that bunch. Literal thieves. And they’ve been stealing from Wayward Bay for years, Violet.”
She gapes at me, an incredulous fire in her eyes, not giving me an inch.
“There’s a folder!” I exclaim, as if this can somehow redeem me, can somehow bring her back to me. “It’s down in the café. All the evidence of his wheeling and dealing, leading this town to ruin. Remington is at the helm of a—”
“Tell meexactlywhat you said to him.”
“Just… let me get the files, Mushroom. You—”
“Don’tcall me that.
She’s so upset she’s shaking, her curls trembling, her eyes wild.
I reach out to take her hand, and she recoils.
The guilt and fear roiling inside me shifts into righteous indignation. No, blackmailing her ex wasn’t the mostheroicdeed of the century, but my heart was in the right place. Can’t she see that?
“Ishowedhim,” I say, my voice rising, “what an eternity of being roasted alive in Hell looks like, and I should think you of all people would be pleased to know he accepted my terms without—”
“Pleased. Right.” A bitter laugh. A deadly glare. “And what were these so-called terms you set forth, undoubtedly out of the kindness of your bottomless, selfless heart?”
“I… ”Damnit. I can’t admit it. Don’t have to, anyway. She already knows the answer. It’s written all over her face. “Violet, please let me explain. I thought—”
“YouknewI wasn’t comfortable applying for the grant, Devlin. Not just because I didn’t want to deal with Brandt, but because I didn’t think I had a chance—not with all the other great businesses and eager entrepreneurs in the Bay.”
“But youdidapply!”
“Yeah, you know why? Because ofyou. Youthought I had a chance.Youthought I could win. That’s how you made me feel. Like you truly believed in me at a time when I didn’t quite believe in myself, and that’s all I needed.”
“Ididbelieve in you. Istillbelieve in you. You deserve this grant more than—”
“No, I don’t. And you just proved it. If Ididdeserve it, I would’ve been able to earn it on my own merits.”
“But—”
