Page 54 of Speak No Claim

She eyed me cautiously for a moment, giving me more anxiety.

Unable to take the silence, I shared, “I went to the district this evening.”

She reached for my arm, starting to clean me up. “That town is dead. Most of it is under construction. Nobody goes there anymore. We haven’t in years.”

“Alfred suggested it.”

“Who’s Alfred?”

“Oh… umm… Jones, I think.”

“Your driver?” she acknowledged, looking up at me.

“Yeah.”

Her gaze connected with mine. “Why would he…?” She stopped herself. “What did you find?”

“So you know I found something?”

“You tell me.”

“You Devereauxs,” I sassed. “You’re amazing at avoiding questions.”

“Hennessy, I’m trying to help you.”

“You can’t help me. Your family hates me. Especially your brother.”

“Trust me,” she confirmed. “It’s not hate that he feels for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just tell me what you found.”

With my good arm, I grabbed my cell phone out of the pocket in my dress, showing her the pictures I’d taken.

Her eyes sharpened, immediately ordering, “You need to delete those! Now, Hennessy!” She was about to do it herself, but I snatched it out of her hands.

“Hell no!” I argued. “It’s the only proof I have!”

“Wrong!” She inhaled a deep breath. “That’s evidence! I’m serious, Hennessy, you need to delete those.”

“Or what?”

“Or someone is going to come looking for them to delete it themselves.”

“Who? How?” Now I sounded like a fucking owl. “Nobody was in there with me. How would they know⁠—”

“That museum is filled with cameras.”

I never told her where I found them. “It’s being remodeled.”

“All the more reason to have it surrounded by surveillance.”

“Jesus…” I abruptly stood, yanking my arm out of her grasp. “What the hell is going on, Deja? I just got chased in the woods!”

She didn’t seem fazed by what I just admitted. Instead, she concluded, “Is that how you cut your arm?”

“No, I did that by breaking into the museum.”