by Hart, Stella
He nodded. “Yes. When I joined the Order, I was led to believe it existed in complete secrecy, so I’d like to know how the hacker even knew there was anything to hack in the first place.”
“That’s a very good question,” Councilwoman Meyer replied with a tight smile. “In order for the hacker to have known about our confession files, a member must have broken his or her vows and told them about the Order. Either that or the hacker is actually a member.”
She raised her brows as shocked, angry mutters spread throughout the room like wildfire. Several people looked around worriedly, casting suspicious looks at their fellow Order members.
Logan simply pressed his lips tightly together and rolled his eyes. “No shit,” he muttered.
An older member leapt to her feet. “If the leak is coming from one of us, then what’s stopping them—or the hacker—from revealing the existence of our society?” she said with wide eyes. “So far, the media doesn’t actually know where that recording of Willow came from, but if the truth gets out, everyone will know about the Order.”
“That is a serious concern of ours,” Meyer replied with a curt nod. “So far, nothing has happened to suggest that the source might reveal our existence, but we know the threat is still there.”
“So what are you doing about it?”
“We plan to investigate every single member, leaving no stone unturned. When we discover who our leak is, they will be dealt with accordingly,” Meyer said, holding her head high. She paused and narrowed her eyes. “Whoever you are—you will regret your actions. You will regret breaking your vows. Mark my words on that.”
Several members exchanged nervous glances. I frowned, wondering how many innocent people would get swept up in the witch hunt as Q and the council pursued the leak.
I was willing to bet a lot of the members had confided in their spouse or best friend about the existence of the society, probably thinking it was fine because they were sure that person would never betray them. Even if they weren’t guilty of leaking anything to the hacker—whoever he or she was—they would still get in trouble if and when their disloyalty was discovered.
That wouldn’t be good.
I tuned out the rest of the meeting. It was mostly made up of members asking questions I’d already asked myself a million times and receiving nothing more than vague responses from the high council. It was surprising how clueless they were, and it made me wonder if the Order was actually as powerful and influential as they’d always claimed to be.
It also made me wonder if this meeting was just a decoy. Maybe Q and the council knew exactly who the leak was, and they didn’t want to reveal their identity because it was actually one of them. Maybe the revelation of my confession was part of their grand master plan, whatever the hell it was.
Nothing would shock me at this point.
Once the meeting was over, a door on the far side of the function room opened, and a multitude of impeccably dressed waiters streamed out, holding trays of drinks and canapés for anyone who wanted to stay and socialize.
I didn’t. Even though it would be nice to catch up with people like David, Simone and Amy, I just wanted to get the hell out of here and have a hot, relaxing bath. My nerves were utterly shredded after being made to stand up in front of everyone by Q earlier.
Fortunately, Logan was on my side for once. “Let’s go,” he said, holding out one hand.
He escorted me out of the room with Mal and Adam trailing behind us as usual. As we stepped through the atrium, we passed Varsity, and I spotted Rowan standing by his table with another young man, presumably the coworker who’d invited him out.
Rowan’s eyes were on the enormous TV on the other side of the bar, but I caught his attention with a wave as I passed. When he realized it was me, his eyes widened, and he started waving frantically. “Willow,” he called out. “Come here!”
Logan leaned down and muttered in my right ear. “What does he want?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Willow!” Rowan called out again. He left his table and dashed out to the atrium. “You have to see this!”
“What is it?” Logan asked before I could even open my mouth to reply.
“The Attorney General is on TV,” Rowan said. “He’s about to announce the result of the second autopsy on Rutherford.”
I turned to Logan with wide eyes, and he nodded. “Let’s go,” he said. He put his hand on the small of my back as he directed me into the bar.
I tilted my chin up, gluing my gaze to the TV. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread coiling around my guts.
“The AG wouldn’t have arranged a press conference so late unless it’s bad, right?” I whispered to Rowan.
He shook his head. “It’ll be fine. He probably just wants everyone to know the results as soon as possible,” he said in a soothing tone, rubbing my shoulder.
Logan narrowed his eyes and pulled me closer, as if he was jealous of Rowan touching me. Normally I would be irritated at his possessiveness, but I barely even registered it as I stared up at the screen, waiting for Geoff Rosen to announce his findings.
“Good evening, everybody, and thanks for being here,” he began. “As you know, on December 5th, President Theodore Rutherford’s body was exhumed from Arlington National Cemetery so that Special Counsel Christine Meeks and her team could arrange for a second autopsy to be carried out. This was done in order to determine the cause of death once and for all, given the recent doubt cast over the initial autopsy performed by Rear Admiral George Colgate. As I’ve said before, I’m committed to ensuring the greatest degree possible of transparency concerning the Special Counsel’s investigation, so I’ve called for this conference tonight to announce the results of the aforementioned autopsy.”
He paused to look down at the papers on the podium. My pulse raced even faster. There was a fluttery, empty feeling in my stomach.
“The autopsy revealed that President Rutherford’s death was caused by a myocardial infarction leading to heart failure, as stated in Rear Admiral Colgate’s initial report,” AG Rosen said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
My shoulders slumped with relief. Rowan smiled over at me. “See?” he mouthed. “Its’s fine.”
“However,” Rosen went on, lifting his stony eyes to the reporters again. “Traces of aconitine were found in President Rutherford’s kidneys. Aconitine is produced from the aconitum plant, which is commonly known as monkshood or wolfsbane. It is a toxic substance known to cause heart failure within an hour of ingestion.”
The room seemed to start spinning all around me as the Attorney General went on.
“These findings lead us to an unfortunate and shocking conclusion, which is that President Rutherford’s heart failure did not occur due to natural causes. There is simply no question about it anymore.” He paused again and stared right into the camera. “President Rutherford was murdered.”
6
Willow
My chin rested on my hands as I lay on the end of my bed, staring up at the TV mounted on the wall. There was a hollowness in my chest, and my limbs felt weak and slack.
Onscreen, a blonde journalist was standing outside the DOJ building on Pennsylvania Avenue, wind whipping through her hair as she reported the latest news on the Rutherford situation.
“At this point, appointed Special Counsel Christine Meeks is still deciding whether or not to invoke the exception to override Justice Department policy to indict President Rhoades. No word on how long it will take her to reach a decision on that issue, but we’re likely looking at several weeks, if not months, while the investigation continues,” she said. “However, this morning, an anonymous DOJ staffer stated that an indictment will likely be handed down to Chief of Staff Jamie Torrance by the end of this month, given that he has no special protections against it like the president does. Back to you, Andy.”
I sighed and lowered my eyes to the bed, wondering if things could poss
ibly get any worse.
After the Attorney General’s shocking announcement five days ago, the media and general public had erupted in a veritable firestorm. The cries for an impeachment inquiry had grown louder, and according to the slivers of information Mal and Adam had given me out of sympathy, my mother and several White House staffers had received multiple death threats.
Despite it all, there was still no solid evidence that they actually did anything to harm Rutherford. Granted, it didn’t look good for them at this point, but there were a lot of guests at the party where Rutherford was poisoned. Any one of them could’ve slipped the toxin into his food or drink, and any one of them could’ve set up my mother.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Maybe my mother and her staffers were stone-cold killers, and I was just grasping at straws because I didn’t want to acknowledge that possibility.
Someone rapped on the door, instantly snapping me out of my reverie. I jumped up, eyes widening as goosebumps peppered my arms. I knew it wasn’t Logan at the door, because he was at work, and the maids had already cleaned the room today, so it wasn’t them either.
I stepped over to the other side of the room and tentatively reached for the door handle. Logan didn’t bother locking me in anymore, because he knew he didn’t need to. There was no way for me to leave the top floor of Wonderland without being caught by a security guard, and during the day, Mal and Adam stood watch outside my door.
Technically, I was allowed to walk around outside if I wanted to, as long as my detail followed me, but considering all the recent uproar, all I wanted to do was wallow in misery in my bedroom.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Elizabeth Thorne standing there with a silver tray. It held a patterned china teapot and a couple of matching teacups. “Hi, Willow,” she said. “Could I please come in?”
I stepped aside. “Sure.”
She set the tray on a low coffee table and flashed me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to bring you some of this tea. It’s my own personal blend of calming herbs,” she explained. “I found it really helped me after Chloe’s accident, so I thought you might like some, considering everything that’s been going on lately.”
Guilt twisted my guts, and I gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Elizabeth. That’s very nice of you.”
She waved a hand. “Call me Liz,” she said as she slowly poured some tea into one of the delicate cups. “There you go. Enjoy.”
“Thanks again.”
She took a few steps closer to me and rested a soft hand on my forearm. “I know this has been really hard for you,” she said, eyes full of sorrow. “Not just this scandal with your mother, but everything with Logan too. I wish things had been easier, because I’m really happy you’re here. I want to support you, if you’ll let me. You don’t have to suffer alone.”
“Okay.” I swallowed thickly. Part of me wanted to hate this woman for condoning the contractual relationship between me and her son, and the other part of me wanted to hug her for her kindness.
She drew her hand back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing now,” she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. She turned and headed for the door.
I was about to let her walk out when I noticed a fresh bruise on one side of her neck.
“Liz, wait,” I said, pulse suddenly racing.
She turned back, eyebrows knitted. “Yes?”
“Would you like to sit with me for a while?” I asked. I gestured to the coffee table. “You could have some tea too.”
A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she shook her head. “It’s lovely of you to offer, but I don’t want to bother you.”
“You wouldn’t be bothering me. It might actually be good for me to have someone to chat to. Otherwise I’m just sitting here shouting at the TV.”
She let out a gentle laugh. “I suppose so. But only if you’re sure.”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Well….” She hesitated and glanced at the elegant white gold watch on her left wrist. “I have an appointment in the city today. I can’t cancel it, but I don’t need to leave for at least half an hour.”
“So you can stay for a drink?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’d love to.”
I returned her smile and poured another cup of tea, motioning for her to take a seat on the plush lounge near the table. Her face crinkled in a blissful expression as she took her first sip. “Mm. I love this stuff.”
I sat down and took a small sip as well. “It’s really good.”
“If you’re lucky, I might share the secret recipe with you one day,” she said with a playful wink. She rubbed the bruised side of her neck as she spoke.
I decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that had been burning a hole in my tongue since I saw the marks.
“Liz, what happened to your neck?”
Her shoulders stiffened, and her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a big bruise on that side of your neck,” I said, nodding toward her left.
Her eyes darted away from me, and her face took on a flustered expression. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. I’m just clumsy. I walked right into a door the other day. I must be going blind in my old age.”
My brows gathered into a frown. She wasn’t even close to old, and her story didn’t make any sense. “You walked into a door with your neck?”
She shakily set her teacup down. “I must’ve hit it at a strange angle. Like I said, I’m very clumsy.” She looked back at me again, lips curling in a nervous and obviously fake smile. “Trust me, when you get to my age, you’ll start to bruise easily too. It’s not a big deal.”
I leaned forward. “Did Chuck do something to you?” I asked in a low voice.
She shook her head and pointedly looked away again, fingers twisting in her lap. “No, of course not. My husband has a volatile temper, but he would never hurt me.”
I hesitated for a moment, biting my bottom lip. I’d wondered something about Elizabeth for quite some time now, but I’d never had the chance to quiz her about it.
Now seemed like the right time to do so, as painfully awkward as it would be.
I set my cup down. “Liz, when you married Chuck, was it because you loved him?” I asked. “Or were you forced to do it like me?”
She sighed, still twisting her fingers. “It was a similar situation,” she admitted in a soft voice. “My parents organized the contract with his family. It’s normal, though, darling. You know that, don’t you?”
On the inside, I crowed victoriously. I knew it!
An idea bloomed to life in my head, and I leaned forward again. “You don’t have to stay with a man who hurts you,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Contract or not.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to mine. “Willow, you’re so sweet to be concerned, but there’s really nothing to worry about. Chuck has never been violent with me. I’m fine.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t get those bruises from walking into a door,” I said. “I’m sorry to pry, but I have to say it. Something is obviously going on.”
She parted her lips as if she were about to say something, but then she clamped them firmly shut and picked up her teacup. After another sip, she spoke up again. “No marriage is perfect, Willow. I certainly haven’t been the perfect wife, so I can’t blame Chuck for not being the perfect husband.”
I pressed my lips into a flat line. She sounded like a brainwashed abuse victim, trying to rationalize her husband’s bad behavior by blaming herself for everything he did. As if she deserved to be hit or choked for not being the ‘perfect’ wife.
Was this what I was slowly morphing into with Logan? Would I turn out just like Elizabeth if I didn’t escape?
“Besides,” she went on, color rising in her cheeks as she held her chin high and straightened her shoulders. “I really can’t complain about my marriage. Chuck has given me two beautiful children
, and I have everything I could possibly want. I’m lucky compared to most women.”
“Do you really feel that way?”
“Yes.” Her tone was stubborn now.
“Even when your husband does stuff like that to you?” I asked, nodding toward her neck.
She let out another sigh and returned her gaze to her lap. “You don’t understand, Willow,” she murmured. ”I… I could never leave, no matter what he says or does.”
I breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful she was finally opening up to me, even if it was in a roundabout way.
“Your family is more powerful than Chuck’s. I’m sure there’s some way out of the contract for you,” I said. Unless your husband is just as much of a sociopath as your son and threatens to kill your loved ones if you ever try, I silently added.
I hoped not, because I really wanted to convince her to leave.
My motivations weren’t entirely unselfish and altruistic. This was as much for me as it was for her. If I could help her gain the strength and courage to leave her abusive relationship, she might eventually see past all the terrible brainwashing and realize that her son was repeating his father’s patterns with me.
If and when she realized that, she might be able to use her means to help me by organizing for my release from this horrible marriage contract. If the request came from her (along with her influential family), my own family and friends would be safe, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything being done to them as retribution for leaving Logan.
It would be a long road to freedom, but I wanted to take it anyway, because it was the only real option I had now.
In order to set things in motion, I had to convince Elizabeth of her worth. She’d obviously been beaten down for so long that she barely knew who she was anymore, but she needed to remember she was a Hale. She had access to more wealth and power than anyone else in the country, including any of the Thornes. If she wanted to get out and strike back at her husband, she could make it happen. She just needed to realize it.
