Page 48 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“I recommend not going that route. Your story has holes, starting with Ford asking you to prom, seeing that he left the country yesterday at five o’clock. Chris and Trent have alibis, and you have no proof of who did any of it. Not to mention, you don’t have anyone to support your side of the story, and this town doesn’t tolerate liars.” I want to slap his threatening smile off his face. “You and your grandmother risk losing everything.”

My grandmother would be heartbroken, and we would be penniless if we had to close the bakery. The bakery is what pays for her medications that are not covered to keep her comfortable. State long-term care gives her eight hours Monday through Friday to pay Mary for personal care and homemaker for four hours each. Anything over that needs to come out of pocket, or I have to do it myself. Chris and Trent’s family have the power to destroy me. They have the power to pay people off to look the other way.

“I understand,” I say through clenched teeth, hating him— all of them.

“My clients are willing to replace your cell phone and any medical bills you received in urgent care if you keep things to yourself. If you need to see a doctor, one will be provided for you at no cost.” He smiles like a car salesman. “I hope you feel better, Miss Webster, and good luck. My secretary will be in touch.” The bloodsucking lawyer turns around and walks down the broken steps. I want nothing more than for him to trip and fall on his smug face and then scream at the top of my lungs.

14

FORD

Dulce looks terrified as I guide her into Trent’s office. The cookies smell delicious, and I feel bad for making her come out this way, but I had no idea her van was in such bad shape. There was a moment when I thought it was better to pick up the order myself every week in a desperate attempt to see her, but I’ve had a change of plans, and now I need her here.

I guide her into Trent’s office, ignoring the weird way he has been acting since she arrived. I need a minute alone with her to make sure she’s okay. The last thing I want is for her to have a panic attack like the one she had on Friday night, and if she does, she comes first. Fuck everyone else.

“Do you have any orders left for the day?”

She shakes her head, clutching her bag like a life jacket.

Trent walks in and sits behind his desk, fumbling with his computer, probably pulling up the year and make of her van. I want to tell him not to bother fixing it. What she needs is a new one. The van she has is an old rust bucket, but I don’t want to make her feel bad and would never point it out.

I’m sure she bought it with her own hard-earned money. I understand the pride one feels despite coming from a family thathas everything. I know the feeling when someone flexes their wealth. Everything I have, I’ve earned. No one can take it away or tell me it was handed to me. I’m sure she feels the same way.

“I found the year, make, and model. I’ll have my mechanic take a look at it,” Trent says awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Dulce.

“When was the last time you guys saw each other?” I ask, leaning against the wall, able to see the expressions on both their faces.

Trent’s fingers pause over the keyboard. “School,” Trent says.

Dulce is silent, staring at the wall like in a trance.

He’s lying, so I say, “Hmm…”

“What did you expect? We weren’t exactly friends with her.”

“How was prom?” I ask sharply, looking directly at Trent.

From the corner of my eye, I see Dulce’s legs shaking. Her hands tremble between her clenched thighs, and it looks like she’s digging her nails into her palms. Trent leans back in his chair, not meeting my eyes, glancing nervously back and forth between Dulce and me.

“Don’t fucking look at her,” I warn firmly, my tone hard and unyielding.

Dulce looks up with terror in her eyes. I don’t want to scare her, but I’m pissed off. I’m willing to commit murder. Trent sees the threatening look in my gaze. The way a person does when they want to make something or someone disappear.

“I went,” he says.

“And Dulce? Did she go?”

He shakes his head slowly.

I push off the wall. “How come? I heard she went with me?” I stand next to him on his desk, looking at the computer screen where it says no charge on Dulce’s invoice. “What’s wrong, Trent?” I say angrily. “You’re usually so vocal.”

His Adam’s apple moves up and down. My blood boils. “Answer me!” I scream, causing Dulce to jump in her seat.

I point at her but stare at Trent. “I’m not mad at you, Dulce. I would never hurt you, but this piece of shit in front of me…”

“She was the end-of-the-year prank,” he says quietly.

My body trembles like rocks bouncing off the earth. My teeth grind so hard they are going to snap off. “Why?”

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