Page 39 of Fallen Petal

“No, she doesn’t!” Her voice is trembling and the look on her face tells me that she’s not quite sure about the truth behind her words herself.

“No one could ever want something like this,” she adds, sounding even more insecure.

I sigh. “She does. You know it. You talked to her. You tried to talk her out of this.”

I pause, trying to swallow my anger at Malia’s treason to divert to another tactic with her, one that might get me further than yelling furiously.

“Look,” I say, lowering the tone of my voice to a calmer level. “She may be your best friend, and I know you’re worried about her. But you must know that there are some things about Petal you may neither know nor understand.”

Malia’s black eyes flicker with disdain. “Her name is Liliane. Not Petal.”

“In here it isn’t,” I insist. “She gave up that name when she signed the contract.”

She rolls her eyes at my words, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jayson,” she says, the expression on her face tensing. “This is going too far. She’s desperate, confused, and suffering on a level that is just... too much.”

“The contract we signed is legally binding. If you break your confidentiality, we could sue you.”

“We?” she repeats, arching her eyebrows. “You think she would sue me for getting her out of here? For saving her from a lunatic like you?”

My chest tightens. Quite frankly, I would love to know the answer to that question.

How would she react? Would she be glad? Would she be disappointed? How would she feel after I help her remember? How much of her memory would I have to restore to sway her decision in my favor?

What would I have to do to remind her of the feelings that brought her to me in the first place?

“Besides,” Malia adds, tearing me out of my contemplations. “I’m pretty sure Christopher would see things very differently. And he is the police. Don’t you think it would be up to him to decide in this matter?”

“Don’t you dare threaten me, Malia,” I warn her, my eyes turning to slits as I lock her in place with a malevolent look.

“I’m not threatening you, Jayson,” she replies. “I’m just reminding you of the reality you like to ignore while you’re playing your sick games in here.”

She huffs, walking in a wide circle as she moves past me, heading toward the door.

“We all make mistakes,” she says without looking back at me. “And I’m beginning to think that there have been a few too many here.”

I watch as she marches toward the door, a dark frown on my face as I clench my fists.

She opens the door, and I don’t move.

She walks out the door, and I don’t move.

My mind is racing, jumping back and forth between options as I try to decide what to do about her.

Should I let her go and trust that she remembers our deal once she’s calmed down? Should I follow her and make sure she’ll never tell a living soul about this?

My feet move before my decision is truly finalized.

I hope I don’t regret this.

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