Page 190 of One Big Little Secret

“Call me,” I say, turning on my heel.

She doesn’t say anything at all after that, and though I’m glad she’s not trying to stand in my way, it feels like she’s giving up.

The darkest day of my life dims a little more and it’s not even evening yet.

So I just climb back in my vehicle, which is miraculously still where I left it without a ticket on the windshield, and set off for Mom’s.

Mom looks justas shell shocked as I thought she’d be.

“What do you mean,poisoned?”

“I mean poisoned-poisoned, Mom.” I rifle through the cupboards in the kitchen, tossing everything on the counter in frantic handfuls. “He’s in the hospital now.”

“But I don’t understand.” Her hands flutter helplessly and she loosens the scarf around her neck. “What could he have eaten?”

“Don’t know, Mom. But it must’ve happened here.”

Unless it was at her apartment, but a poison this violent would probably be too fast-acting for that. They were here for a while. The ones that hit your system and make you vomit up your lungs generally aren’t slow and creeping.

I hope.

Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m desperate.

“What did he eat?” I ask, pulling out the glass container with the cake inside for a look. “Did you make this?”

“Yes. Just yesterday with Evelyn and Juniper.”

“And you all had a slice?”

“Yes, Patton,” Mom says, her voice wilting. But her eyes are wide and flashing with concern. “I swear, we all had a slice from the very same cake. We all ate it off the same clean plates and as far as I know, the rest of us are fine. We had coffee and little Arlo had orange juice.”

Damn. Just like I feared, that doesn’t tell me much.

I need to hear from another witness, just in case there’s something Mom overlooked.

“Where is she?” I growl.

“Evelyn? Oh my, probably at the airport by now. Archer took her after Salem left.”

Wretched timing.

She won’t be around to ask, though we’d probably know by now if she suddenly became deathly sick before her flight.

“What else did he drink? Water?” I demand.

“Just the orange juice. I’m sure of it. The same brand I had for breakfast, that fresh-squeezed stuff they sell down at the river market, and I’mfine.” She breathes roughly, her eyes closing as she shakes her head. “I just don’t get this. I need a moment, Patton. I just need some air, I need…”

She trails off. We both know she doesn’t have to say it.

She needs the same thing we all do—for Arlo to be okay.

For the millionth time, I hate this shit.

The front door slams hard enough to rattle the house then. I look up.

Footsteps come thumping down the hall. There’s only one person I know with that angry elephant walk.

Archer. He has this way of stomping around like he wants his feelings to reach the center of the earth.

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