Page 36 of Lush

Her chest heaved as she clutched at the fabric of her sweater, her fingers clawing at the neckline like it was suffocating her. “I can’t—I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

“Mom.” I slid off the couch and onto my knees in front of her,my heart pounding. “Mom, you’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe, okay? Look at me.”

But her eyes stayed fixed on something distant, and her trembling turned violent. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts now, like she couldn’t get enough air.

I had pushed too hard, too fast.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shuddered. “I can’t… I can’t stop seeing him.”

“Listen to me,” I said firmly, gripping her hands tighter. “You’re here with me, not there. You’re not alone. Just focus on my voice.”

“G-get my medicine, now!”

In a panic of my own, I dashed up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom, my footsteps echoing loudly in the silent house. I hurriedly rifled through the medicine cabinet, searching until I found the small bottle of pills.

Maybe I was being biased. Or maybe not. But Laurene’s ex-boyfriend being friends with my brother was an issue.Tobias.

Did Laurene know anything?

I shook off the nagging thoughts and brought my mother her medication.

“Here.” I kneeled beside her. “Take these. It will help.”

Tearfully, she accepted the pills with trembling hands. “Thank you.”

I sat beside her, rubbing her shoulders and feeling utterly helpless as she calmed, the medication gradually taking effect.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry?—”

“Shh.” I brought her to my side, gently rocking her as I felt the tension melt away. “Don’t worry. Just calm down.”

I think I had our first suspect.

CHAPTER 9

Laurene

“Great job today,”said Arthur, my new boss, as he entered my new office.

The Lush Art Gallery needed an art curator after the previous one left town under circumstances Arthur vaguely described as “a difference of vision.” Convenient timing, really, but then again, Mama had a knack for convenient timing.

It’d only been a few days since I’d returned, and I’d already climbed the corporate ladder.

The moment I stepped into the gallery, heads turned. The hushed whispers, the polite-but-too-long stares, and the not-so-subtle glances over their shoulders

“Is that Laurene King?”

“Didn’t she leave?”

“Why is she back?”

“Did you hear she’s engaged to Reese Ashbourne now?”

My phone buzzed—twice in quick succession.

“Thank you,” I replied. I kept my voice measured, pleasant, just warm enough to hide my irritation. Reese hadn’t been answering me.

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