Page 47 of A Violet Obsession

I hesitate for a second, a sense of foreboding tightening my stomach, before I type in their names together. The article from the Atlanta Tribune, dated six years ago, freezes the air in my lungs. The article briefly describes a botched warehouse heist where a security guard killed one suspect, Scott Jenkins. The police took another female suspect into custody. Two suspects still at large.

Female suspect.

It takes five more minutes to find what I’m looking for.

Lily’s plea deal.

I stare at the screen. My pulse is hammering in my throat.

What the fuck happened to you, Lily?

I knew she was hiding something, but I never expected this.

On a whim, I scroll back years through my sister’s social media, flying past happy pictures of her in college, high school graduation, prom—until I find Lily.

Her face is round, and her hair is a frizzy, copper cloud above her wide, innocent smile. She and my sister are grinning at the camera. Another is of them making silly faces.

Something shifts in my chest.

I start to click on another photo but stop. Blowing up the first picture, I recognize myself in the background, one hand holding a small red screwdriver. The memory comes back to me in a rush—the first computer I’d built totally from scratch, and it had caught fire.

I stare at the smoking tower of my new gaming computer.

Six months of work, and money from my job at the grocery store, gone in a second. I want to put my fist through the wall.

“Oh, honey,” my mom exclaims from the doorway, her hand pressed to her mouth.

I grit my teeth. I can’t deal with the scene she’s going to want to create. I just want to move on and figure out what I did wrong.

“Don’t be upset with yourself,” she continues with a sympathetic look on her face. “I’m sure it’s going to be great next time. Do you want a hug? I could make you something to eat. Anything you want⁠—”

“It’s fine, Mom.” I cut her off. I know she means well, but I just want to be left alone.

“Whoaaa! Are you trying to burn the house down?” That’s my sister’s helpful question from behind my mom. “Told ya you should have just bought one.”

“Emma!” my mom exclaims, and I can hear her chastising my sister down the hall for being ‘insensitive.’

I blow out a breath, happy for the quiet. I’m reaching for the tiny screwdriver so I can take apart the system and find my error when I realize I’m not alone.

Lily, Emma’s friend, is standing in the doorway watching me with wide green eyes. She gives me a tentative smile.

“What?” I snap at her.

“Did you know Nikola Tesla’s first laboratory burned to the ground? He lost years of research and equipment. And then he just… rebuilt everything and kept going. He said the ideas were more important than whatever container he put them in.” With bright red cheeks, she walks away.

I sit there after she leaves, staring at the ruined motherboard, a smile teasing at my lips.

Somehow, her matter-of-fact words were exactly what I needed. And how she knew that, I don’t know, but for some reason, they helped smooth over my anger more than my mother’s sympathy. Picking up the tool again, I get back to work.

I adjust my glasses as I stare at the monitor, the memory fading, and my brain veers toward Lily’s comments about the Tesla patents today.

She’d remembered. After everything that had happened to her, she remembered a random statement I’d made about Nikola Tesla at a kitchen table that no one else in my family would be able to recall if I asked them.

Emma said she’d had a crush. Is that what it means? She saw more in me than even my family?

I rub my eyes. I must be exhausted if I’m thinking about this shit. I’m three steps from the door when a terrified scream rips through the silence of the building.

Lily.