Page 86 of A Secret In The Garden

I took a step into her room. It felt like I was in a stranger’s room, a place I wasn’t normally welcome to go.

“Mom, I⁠—”

“What is Lucy doing? Did you see any pictures of her? Is she healthy?”

I realized with surprise how hurt my mother was over my sister leaving. Her pain had always been covered with anger. Her actions had always led me to believe that she didn’t really care—even that she was happy my rebellious sister had left. But now I saw another side to my mother that I had never paid attention to. She was hurt. I’d only ever seen her weaponize her feelings to get what she wanted.

“I didn’t get any pictures, but she is healthy as far as I know,” I answered with renewed confidence. “And no, I’m not going anywhere, not if you can respect my boundaries.”

She scoffed before the words had fully left my mouth. “Eliza Arnold, I am nothing but respectful of your boundaries. Sorry for loving you so much that I want what’s best for you⁠—”

“I love you too, Mom,” I cut her off. “But you need to understand that I am my own person. You can’t protect me from everything. You have held me so carefully that you’ve crushed me. From this day on, you will have no input on what I eat, wear, or think; do you understand that?”

“I most—” She couldn’t stop herself.

I held up my hand and continued before I chickened out. I was trying, but it was still all incredibly new to me to not just fold at her sharp glare and threatening tone. “You have no say over anything I do from this point on, so you might as well save your breath.” I grabbed the pale purple shirt I wore and lifted the fabric. “This is polyester. I’ve bought five more like it in different colors, mostly because you threw a tantrum and gave away the vast majority of my clothes.” My voice was sharp and confident as things I’d only dreamed of saying to her began pushing their way out, eager to be released. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I might not get another chance to talk to her while she was slightly more sedate like this again.

“Young lady⁠—”

“I am not a young lady; I am a woman, and if you cannot treat me as such, then I will be forced to cut you out of my life like Lucy did. The choice is yours, Mom. Be respectful of my decisions, or you are out,” I said sternly. “And also, I want to get you some help.”

Anxiety thrummed in my veins, unsure of what she would do. I’d never, ever confronted or spoken like this to her, and I didn’t know how she would react. Thankfully, I was in a direct line to the front door if I needed to run.

Still tense, I waited, knowing this fight between us would not end so easily and that she would most likely need several reminders—just as many reminders as I would need to keep those boundaries in place.

“I don’t need help. I just don’t want to lose you, too,” she said as she looked at the dresser in front of her. “I only want what’s best for you.” Her voice was softer, the words spoken from a place within her and not out of manipulation. For the first time in my life, I actually believed her.

“Well, then stop trying to control me.” I cleared my throat. “Lucy said she’d be open to talking to you again if we all went to group therapy. We can do it online. She doesn’t want to go in circles fighting, and I don’t either.”

“I don’t need therapy,” she growled. “You two are the ones who don’t know about the world. You think you can do so great out there alone, Eliza, then go ahead. I don’t need either one of you. If my only two daughters think I’m just such a horrible mother, then maybe you should leave for good.”

Refusing to take the bait, I grabbed my stuff and moved to the door before she really got recharged. I had known she wouldn’t change in a day, but it still hurt.

“Think about what I said, Mom. If you don’t think that you can respect my boundaries, then we won’t have a relationship. I’ll call you next week.” I let the storm door swing closed behind me as my trembling body got in my car and drove away, barely able to believe I’d just spoken to her that way.

Flying high on adrenaline, my phone ringing startled me, and my stomach dropped. She was calling to scream at me. A hurt animal could still attack.

I pulled the phone from my purse but didn’t recognize the number. Most likely, more people from the party were trying to get more information on what had happened.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Eliza Arnold?”

My face scrunched. “It’s Ms., and this is she.”

Something about the way the man spoke felt clinical. “This is Deputy Harkin from the Pinehurst Police Department. I was told you were the botanist who was restoring the Blackwood Manor conservatory when the body was found. Is that correct?” he asked with a slight edge of irritation.

I took a sharp turn and pulled into an empty bank parking lot. Oh my god, they knew I took the locket. The same locket that had probably been around Hester’s neck when she had been buried, a detail I only recently had thought about.

I gulped. “Yes, that was me.”

“Someone at the local botanical gardens, a Dr. Lithgow, has been raising hell, excuse my language. The chief is requesting you come to the crime scene and identify any plants on the conservation list that haven’t already gotten destroyed or whatever since you’ve already been at the scene,” he said.

“You want me to go back to Blackwood Manor?” I asked as my chest tightened.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Any chance you can make it over today? Chief’s getting frustrated, and we’ll finish soon.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m in the car now. I can be there in two hours,” I said.