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Magnolia clears her throat, so I turn back to her. She’s still smiling that sly smile. “So, listen.” Her face falls to something more serious. “To completely cut to the chase here, we know you’re not who you say you are.”
Ruby adds, “And who you’ve told Jake you are the entire time you’ve been dating.”
I fight whipping my head around to look at him again. He must be playing stupid. Somehow, Ruby and Magnolia found out who I am, and when Ruby asked Jake about it, he acted like he didn’t know. That I duped him too.
Asshole.
Magnolia adds, “We know you’re not Scarlett Jones who manages a Blue Olive in Atlanta.”
Ruby scoffs. “Because neither of those things exist. You’re a crime reporter, for shit’s sake. That was the best you could do?”
I have nothing to say. Not to them, anyway.
“And you’re a really bad liar. I knew the moment you stumbled over your last name that something wasn’t right.”
I then want to shoot back that I’m okay with not being a good liar, because it means I actually have a soul. But somehow, this doesn’t feel like the right time.
Not when there’s a gun in Magnolia’s reach.
To drive her point home, Ruby finishes with, “Writing a check to Mom for your benefit plate was a nice little finishing touch.” She sounds almost gleeful at my stupidity. “Did you forget it has your real last name on there?”
Fuck.
Magnolia allows me a gracious moment to let the humiliation set in. “Speaking of crime reporting. My guess is you did all this to get inside our home?” Her mouth draws into a scowl like she tastes something bitter. “Took advantage of my son and our hospitality for a story?”
It wasn’t really a question.
“I won’t even bother asking you what that story is because I really don’t care.”
I guess I could take my pick.
Her gaze draws up to Ruby and her Jacob, searching for something. Maybe an inkling that they’ve somehow figured out the story I’m attempting to cover, which means she really does care.
The answer must be no because her gaze drifts back to me. “Not that it matters. You won’t be leaving this place anyway.”
My world tilts on its side at those words—I won’t be leaving the Mitchell Mansion.
I won’t be leaving…
My mouth goes dry. The air is so thick it’s suffocating.
Everyone’s voices around me fades, eclipsed by my sudden panic. It’s time to run. To at least try to get away.
I don’t want to turn into the girl from Lincoln, Alabama. I don’t want to be the dead girl in the papers. For them to find me beaten to a pulp in the ditch.
Would it be one of the butlers? Preston?
I look to the front door. Toward the kitchen. Maybe I can get away if I—
“No use running, child,” Magnolia says. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
Jake’s voice cuts through the air. “We don’t even know if this bitch knows anything. We weren’t here long.”
This bitch.My heart shatters. He just referred to me as ‘this bitch’.
“And her friends know she’s here. If she goes missing…”
Under her breath, Ruby says, “Fucking idiot.” Then says louder, “Are you suggesting we just let her leave?”
