Page 12 of Tainted Reasoning

I’m vaguely aware of William letting go of my hand and heading back toward the Viscount. I don’t look at what’s happening, but the sounds of a fist meeting bone followed by a body crashing against the marble floor echo in the hallway. I should probably stop William, but all I can do is stare at my mother as she stands there repeating over and over again that she’s sorry. I can’t listen to it. I can’t be hearing this.

“You knew,” I cry.

“I’m sorry.”

I try to say something else, but I have no words. My mother, the woman who I’ve always looked up to, knew what would happen to my best friend.

“Did he blackmail you to do it?” I ask as William appears at my side and wraps his hands around my waist. My mother looks to where the Viscount is lying flat out on the floor.

She shakes her head.

“It was my job.”

My legs give way as my heart breaks, and William catches me. We leave my childhood home without a backward glance.

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