"Of course it's working." Dad's voice dropped even lower. "How do you think her mother went?"
I clamped both hands over my mouth. Mom—Mom died from organ failure after the car accident. That's what they told me.
"Then increase the dose!" Christine hissed through clenched teeth. "Hit her from both sides. I refuse to believe we can't finish her off. She has to die—it's the only way the house transfers to Rhys's name without raising suspicion. That's the only thing that'll keep Vivian quiet."
"I know. I'll handle it..."
I backed into the storage room, locked the door, and pressed my spine against it.
My whole body was shaking.
All these years, I'd believed Christine genuinely cared about me.
After Mom passed, she was the one who braided my hair, attended parent-teacher conferences, brewed brown sugar tea when my cramps were bad.
I even remembered my senior year—I'd had a fever, and she sat by my hospital bed the entire night.
Was all of it a lie?
And Dad. The man who, in every memory I had, loved my mother more than anything—he was the one who helped kill her?
No wonder I'd been dizzy and nauseous lately. I'd chalked it up to exhaustion.
They'd been poisoning me.
Don't panic.