Page 23 of Sinful Palace

6

Willow

My chin restedon my hands as I lay on the end of my bed, staring up at the TV mounted on the wall. There was a hollowness in my chest, and my limbs felt weak and slack.

Onscreen, a blonde journalist was standing outside the DOJ building on Pennsylvania Avenue, wind whipping through her hair as she reported the latest news on the Rutherford situation.

“At this point, appointed Special Counsel Christine Meeks is still deciding whether or not to invoke the exception to override Justice Department policy to indict President Rhoades. No word on how long it will take her to reach a decision on that issue, but we’re likely looking at several weeks, if not months, while the investigation continues,” she said. “However, this morning, an anonymous DOJ staffer stated that an indictment will likely be handed down to Chief of Staff Jamie Torrance by the end of this month, given that he has no special protections against it like the president does. Back to you, Andy.”

I sighed and lowered my eyes to the bed, wondering if things could possibly get any worse.

After the Attorney General’s shocking announcement five days ago, the media and general public had erupted in a veritable firestorm. The cries for an impeachment inquiry had grown louder, and according to the slivers of information Mal and Adam had given me out of sympathy, my mother and several White House staffers had received multiple death threats.

Despite it all, there was still no solid evidence that they actually did anything to harm Rutherford. Granted, it didn’t look good for them at this point, but there were a lot of guests at the party where Rutherford was poisoned. Any one of them could’ve slipped the toxin into his food or drink, and any one of them could’ve set up my mother.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Maybe my mother and her staffers were stone-cold killers, and I was just grasping at straws because I didn’t want to acknowledge that possibility.

Someone rapped on the door, instantly snapping me out of my reverie. I jumped up, eyes widening as goosebumps peppered my arms. I knew it wasn’t Logan at the door, because he was at work, and the maids had already cleaned the room today, so it wasn’t them either.

I stepped over to the other side of the room and tentatively reached for the door handle. Logan didn’t bother locking me in anymore, because he knew he didn’t need to. There was no way for me to leave the top floor of Wonderland without being caught by a security guard, and during the day, Mal and Adam stood watch outside my door.

Technically, I was allowed to walk around outside if I wanted to, as long as my detail followed me, but considering all the recent uproar, all I wanted to do was wallow in misery in my bedroom.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Elizabeth Thorne standing there with a silver tray. It held a patterned china teapot and a couple of matching teacups. “Hi, Willow,” she said. “Could I please come in?”

I stepped aside. “Sure.”

She set the tray on a low coffee table and flashed me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to bring you some of this tea. It’s my own personal blend of calming herbs,” she explained. “I found it really helped me after Chloe’s accident, so I thought you might like some, considering everything that’s been going on lately.”

Guilt twisted my guts, and I gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Elizabeth. That’s very nice of you.”

She waved a hand. “Call me Liz,” she said as she slowly poured some tea into one of the delicate cups. “There you go. Enjoy.”

“Thanks again.”

She took a few steps closer to me and rested a soft hand on my forearm. “I know this has been really hard for you,” she said, eyes full of sorrow. “Not just this scandal with your mother, but everything with Logan too. I wish things had been easier, because I’m really happy you’re here. I want to support you, if you’ll let me. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

“Okay.” I swallowed thickly. Part of me wanted to hate this woman for condoning the contractual relationship between me and her son, and the other part of me wanted to hug her for her kindness.

She drew her hand back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing now,” she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. She turned and headed for the door.

I was about to let her walk out when I noticed a fresh bruise on one side of her neck.

“Liz, wait,” I said, pulse suddenly racing.

She turned back, eyebrows knitted. “Yes?”

“Would you like to sit with me for a while?” I asked. I gestured to the coffee table. “You could have some tea too.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she shook her head. “It’s lovely of you to offer, but I don’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me. It might actually be good for me to have someone to chat to. Otherwise I’m just sitting here shouting at the TV.”

She let out a gentle laugh. “I suppose so. But only if you’re sure.”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Well….” She hesitated and glanced at the elegant white gold watch on her left wrist. “I have an appointment in the city today. I can’t cancel it, but I don’t need to leave for at least half an hour.”

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