Page 88 of The Reckoning
The guards at least look worried. One minute, I was asleep between Arson and Aries, safe and warm and wanted. The next, I was being dragged from bed, Richard Hayes’s security goons handling me like I’m made of glass while my mother watched with cold, calculating eyes.
And Aries, standing in that doorway like a statue, his face a perfect mask of nothing.
I refuse to believe it. Refuse to accept that after everything—after the forest, after our promises, after what we shared—he would just hand us over like this. There has to be another explanation. A plan I’m not seeing yet.
From somewhere upstairs, I hear a floorboard creak. Drew, Lee, and Sebastian are up there, hiding. I’d caught a glimpse of Sebastian’s wide eyes peering over the banister when they first marched us downstairs before one of Richard’s security guys had spotted him and he’d ducked back into hiding. I hope they stay put. The last thing we need is for more people to be caught in this mess. Luckily, they got rid of the usual groups of people who move in and out of here.
I shift to the fireplace and flick the switch to warm up the cold room, my gaze darting to the staircase, wondering if our friends are listening, piecing together fragments of a story they couldn’t possibly understand. How strange this must seem to them—Richard Hayes himself storming into the Mill House at dawn, security team in tow, demanding to see his son.
Arson shifts like he might bolt, but I know he wouldn’t leave me here. His hands are zip-tied in front of him, and he looks disheveled but defiant. He’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes, rumpled from sleep.
Our eyes meet across the room, and I see it there—the same certainty I feel. This isn’t over. Whatever game is being played, we’re not the only ones with cards left.
“Sit,” Richard orders, and I watch as Arson nods to the chair across from him and then takes the other. The guards take up positions outside, blocking the exit.
“Where’s Aries?” I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
“He’ll join us shortly,” Richard says dismissively. “First, we need to discuss the documents you stole.”
My heart skips a beat. Of course that’s what this is about. The evidence. The paper trail of all their crimes.
“I didn’t steal anything,” I say, the lie coming easily. “They were already stolen. I just found them.”
Mother makes a sound of disapproval. “Semantics, Lilian. Where are they now?”
I shrug, feigning a nonchalance I don’t feel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Richard’s jaw tightens. “Don’t play games with me, young lady. Aries told us everything. About the files you found in the attic. About how you’ve been helping Arson with his…vendetta.”
I press a hand to my chest dramatically, letting my breathing hitch just enough to be noticeable. “I need my inhaler,” I say, voice deliberately faint. “I can’t breathe.”
The effect is immediate. Mother’s expression shifts from irritation to concern—not for me, but for her perfect, fragile charity case. Let me play it up a bit more.
“Where is it?” she asks, already moving toward me. “In your purse?”
I shake my head, forcing my breathing to become more labored. “Up…upstairs. In Aries’s room.”
Mother glances at Richard, who nods curtly. “Go get it. We can’t have her collapsing on us.”
Perfect. Just what I was hoping for.
As soon as she’s gone up the stairs, I let my breathing ease, sitting up straighter. Richard’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
“You’re faking,” he says flatly.
I smile thinly. “Years of practice.”
Arson watches me with newfound appreciation, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Clever girl.”
Richard slams his fist against the mantel. The fire crackling below him is a jaunty contrast to the anger simmering off him.“Enough! I want those files, Lilian. Now. Before this escalates further.”
“Or what?” I challenge, feeling bolder now that Mother isn’t here to maintain the pretense of my frailty. “You’ll lock me away, too? Add me to your collection of inconvenient family members? I know that’s not what you want. Please. Listen to me…to us.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Richard growls, and for the first time, I glimpse the monster beneath the polished businessman exterior. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. And if getting you the help you need means things go back to normal…well, I’m happy to do just that.”
“Oh, I think I know perfectly well what you are capable of,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’ve read the files, Richard. All of them. The experimental treatments. The payoffs to doctors and judges. The other children you helped ‘treat’ to neutralize business rivals. But it was never your grand plan to begin with—it was all her. You can still do some semblance of the right thing here.”
Something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe even fear. Good. He should be afraid.
