Page 92 of Insidious

A flicker of panic crosses her face. She takes a step back.

“I just want to talk—”

“I’m not interested in shared ownership schemes either,” I continue, not bothering to modulate my voice. I think Fae’s eyes are going to pop out of her head. “I prefer full custody.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice movement. Isaac is just standing here, listening. He notices me glance his way and mouths “I love you.”

Chloe blinks. “That’s not what this is—”

“We have also stopped taking in lost causes,” I go on, adjusting the towel as Amelie lets out a soft, sleepy sigh. She can sleep through a fire drill. “Not a charity anymore.”

“Luna—”

Her whole face looks a little like a tomato.

“That is Mrs Marlowe to you, bitch. And I definitely don’t subscribe to drama packages,” I add, bulldozing over whatever she was about to say. “Cancelled that subscription. No plans to renew that.”

I watch with fascination as her composure starts to unravel. Good.

“I think you’re being unfair,” she says, voice shaking with a mixture of confusion and wariness. She is not sure what is going to come out of my mouth next.

I smile, and I imagine it is not pretty. I probably look like a slightly unhinged shark.

“Is this one of those pyramid schemes?” I ask, putting on a curious expression as I watch Isaac move closer. I know he is going to take over soon, and I don’t want to lose the fun. “One where you try to recruit other people’s husbands?”

That does it.

She turns pale, and I worry she is going to faint. Unfortunately for her, I have no plans to catch her, and if Isaac tries, I am going to castrate him. I don’t want blood on my front porch. The stains don’t come off easily, I have heard.

I feel Isaac behind me, his arm on my shoulder as he tries to draw me behind him.

“I’m trying to apologise. You’re twisting everything,” she whines, the calm cracking now. “Isaac is my best friend. We were married … It’s only natural that we are close.”

I let out a small, humourless breath. “I think you have a few … fond delusions about that time,” I say simply.

She stiffens.

“If Isaac were a woman, and you were a man,” I continue, my voice steady now, “and you both woke up the way you say it happened”—I tilt my head slightly—“it would be called rape. Have you never heard of consent?”

Her face changes, and there is a wild light in her eyes when she looks at Isaac.

“Tell her,” she says, barely able to speak coherently. “Tell her how close we were. Tell her how we used to spend all our time together.”

Isaac doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes,” he says quietly. “In uni, we did.”

For a split second, triumph crosses her face, but Isaac isn’t finished.

“Along with Zoe. And Jack. And Rowan.”

The light dies in her eyes.

“And that time I got sick after I woke up next to you?” he continues, his voice like icicles. “It wasn’t because I’d had too much to drink. I was … actually physically sick with the idea. I felt like I was trapped with no way out. All I could think of was how I could have been so foolish.”

Chloe goes still. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to her this way.

“I’ve never seen you as anything but my sister,” he says firmly. “Mum made sure of that. And I’ve never wanted anything else.”