24. Selene
24
Selene
“ Y ou absolute fucking menace!”
Morgan’s voice slices through the air like a whip, sharp and furious. The whole room goes still. Even Valkyrie, usually unbothered by shouting, lifts her head from where she’s sprawled on the rug, ears perking up at the tension in the room.
I glance between Morgan and Orion, her face darkens with fury, his jaw clenched tight. He folds his arms, unimpressed, but there’s a heat in his eyes that says he’s just as fired up.
“You think you can just pull that crap and get away with it?” Morgan seethes, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
Orion scoffs. “Why Firefly, you’re acting like I did something illegal.”
“You might as well have!” she shoots back. “I trusted you, Orion! I thought we had an understanding.”
“An understanding?” Orion repeats incredulously. “ You were cheating! I was evening the playing field!”
Morgan gasps, scandalized. “Evening the—oh, you are such a sore loser.”
Theo clears his throat beside me, and I can’t hold it in anymore. Celeste’s face is red and tears are shining in her eyes from holding back her laughter. I press a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my laugh.
It started off as a normal game night—a way to pretend to be normal after last week’s revelations—if anything in this town could be considered normal. Celeste, Morgan, and I had spent the last half hour quietly passing cards beneath the table with our feet, orchestrating a slow and calculated takedown of the men. It had been flawless. An elegant strategy. A masterclass in deception.
Until Theo figured it out.
He must have seen one of us sneaking a card under the table because one second, he was staring at his hand in mild frustration, and the next, he was leaning back in his chair with a slow, dawning realization.
“Wait a second,” he murmured, eyes narrowing. Then, louder, “Are you—are you passing cards under the table?”
Dead silence.
Celeste froze mid-pass, a bright red draw-two Uno card pinched between her toes like she was a deranged card-dealing monkey. Morgan and I exchanged panicked glances, our entire strategy crumbling around us.
It was over. The jig was up.
Orion, always ready to launch himself into a battle he thought he could win, slammed his cards onto the table. “You little traitors! That’s why we’ve been getting obliterated this whole time!”
“You’re just mad we outplayed you,” Celeste replied smoothly, finally dropping the card onto my foot like nothing had happened.
Theo, however, wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, glancing between us with narrowed eyes before lifting his hand for emphasis. “I have seventeen cards.”
Bennett made an exasperated noise and spread his own hand like he was displaying evidence at a crime scene. “I have fifteen.”
Orion gritted his teeth. “I have nineteen. Nineteen, Selene.”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe you guys just have bad luck.”
“Oh, is that right?” Theo leaned forward, his voice deceptively calm. “Then explain why the three of you combined have, what, less than ten cards?”
Morgan, ever the quick thinker, jumped in. “It’s strategy.”
“What strategy?”
Celeste didn’t miss a beat. “A good one.”
Theo exhaled sharply, clearly not impressed. “That’s not an answer.”
Morgan waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. You want the truth?” She leaned in like she was about to unveil some great conspiracy. “It’s an ancient technique. The Sacred Order of Uno Masters—”
Orion cut her off with a groan. “Oh, for the love of—”
Celeste threw in her own distraction tactic, flipping her hair dramatically. “Honestly, it’s your fault for not realizing sooner. This was a test.”
Bennett narrowed his eyes. “A test for what?”
“To see if you were paying attention,” I said quickly. “And guess what? You failed.”
Theo’s lips twitched, but he wasn’t letting it go. “So you’re telling me,” he said, voice full of amused skepticism, “that this entire time, you weren’t cheating—you were testing our observational skills?”
“Exactly,” Celeste said, completely straight-faced.
Orion’s glare could’ve burned a hole through the Morgan. “I want a divorce.”
“We’re not even dating, what makes you think you can divorce me?” Morgan pointed out.
Orion gestured vaguely. “Irrelevant.”
Bennett let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. New rule.” He pointed at each of us in turn. “From now on, everyone has to wear socks during game night. No exceptions.”
Theo nodded. “Agreed.”
Meanwhile, as everyone bickered, Celeste and Bennett shared a knowing glance. In the chaos of rule-making and accusations, their quiet alliance formed. A secret agreement, just between them, ensuring Bennett would have the upper hand next round.
I gasped. “You can’t just make up new rules because you lost.”
Theo smirked. “Actually, I can. House rules.”
I turned to Orion, hoping for backup. “This is tyranny.”
“For once, I agree with him,” Orion said. “Socks. Mandatory. Forever.”
Celeste pouted dramatically. “You guys just hate fun. We were only thinking outside the box.”
Theo leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “No, we just hate losing unfairly.”
Morgan crossed her arms. “Sounds like sore losers to me.”
“Call it whatever you want,” Bennett said, standing up. “But next time, if I see a single naked toe under that table, I’m flipping it.”
Celeste huffed, kicking her feet up onto an empty chair. “Fine. Socks. Whatever. But you’ll regret this when we beat you fair and square next time.”
Theo shot me a knowing look. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you will.”
And just like that, game night at our house had a new rule—one that I had no doubt we’d find a way around eventually. But for now, I simply sigh, shove my socks on, and prepare for war.
As it turns out, Morgan doesn’t like shoes or socks which brings us back to this moment of Orion forcing her to wear some of my clean socks. They’re soft and cozy, but apparently, it’s weird to share socks.
I glance around at my friends, at the ridiculous socks everyone’s now forced to wear, and I realize that despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the looming darkness—we still have this. We still have nights like this. And as long as we do, we’re going to be okay.
At least, until the next round of Uno brings out the worst in us all over again.
The next round begins with a renewed sense of competition. No more secret alliances. No more under-the-table strategies. Just pure, unfiltered chaos.
And, somehow, Bennett is winning.
He’s down to two cards, leaning back in his chair with an almost smug expression. “You’re all about to witness history,” he declares, waving his next card between his fingers like it’s a golden ticket. “The greatest comeback of all time—”
Morgan’s phone rings.
She glances at the screen, then shoots up so quickly that her chair nearly topples over. “It’s the lab.”
All of the joking, all of the ridiculous bickering, falls away in an instant.
She hits speakerphone before anyone can tell her otherwise. “This is Morgan.”
A woman’s voice crackles through the line. “Hi Morgan, this is Dr. Carter, we finished the analysis on the sample you sent in.”
My pulse hammers in my throat. We had been waiting almost a week to hear back. Gabriel’s tumbler—one of the only pieces of evidence we had left—has been a mystery none of us could solve.
Morgan’s voice is steady, but after spending the last few weeks getting to know her, I could hear the slight edge beneath it. “And?”
There’s a brief rustling of papers. Then—
“The residue in the tumbler was elderberries.”
I barely registered the way Theo sits up straighter or the way Orion curses under his breath.
Elderberries.
The silence stretches for a beat too long, thick and suffocating.
Morgan is the first to recover. “Do you know what type of elderberries?”
There’s another rustling of papers on the other end of the line. “The sample traces back to Sambucus nigra —commonly known as black elderberry. But here’s the thing, Morgan.” The woman hesitates for a fraction of a second before continuing. “The specific compounds present indicate that these weren’t commercially processed elderberries. They came from a wild source.”
Morgan’s brow furrows. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they weren’t properly prepared. Raw elderberries—especially from certain wild strains—contain toxic levels of cyanogenic glycosides. When ingested, the body converts those compounds into cyanide.”
Cyanide.
The word slams into my chest with the force of a freight train.
It wasn’t just elderberries. It was poison.
I see it in the way Theo’s jaw clenched, the way Orion goes unnervingly still, and the way Bennett’s fingers curl into a tight fist against the table.
“Shit,” Morgan breathes out. “And you’re absolutely sure?”
“Without a doubt,” Dr. Carter confirms. “Given the concentration in the sample, whoever drank from the tumbler would have experienced symptoms of cyanide poisoning. Depending on the dose and how frequently it was consumed, it could have led to dizziness, vomiting, confusion… even death.”
Just like the others.
Morgan exhales slowly. “Alright. Thank you for the confirmation.”
“I’ll send the full report over by the morning.”
“Appreciate it.” Morgan hangs up, pressing her phone to her forehead for a moment before setting it down. The quiet in the room is deafening, thick with the weight of unspoken things. My chest feels tight, as if someone has reached in and squeezed the air right out of me. I try to swallow, but my throat is so dry, so tight, that it’s like trying to force a breath through a straw.
My hands are clammy, slick with sweat. The heat from the room presses down on me, but it’s as if I can’t escape the chill that’s crept under my skin. My mind whirls, unable to slow down. I can’t focus—every thought is a thousand miles away. A flash of memory strikes without warning. The cafe. Aubrey. A few weeks ago.
She made me a damn elderberry latte. The memory is so vivid it nearly knocks the air out of me. Why had I not connected the dots sooner? Why hadn’t I thought to question it?
I blink, trying to shake the intrusive thoughts, but they won’t leave me. They’re too loud. Aubrey stood there. Watching me drink it.
I try to focus and pull myself together. “I—” My voice is hoarse, the words scraping their way up my throat. Focus, Selene. I clear my throat and press my palms flat against the table, hoping the solid surface will ground me. But even then, my legs feel like jelly. I meet Morgan’s eyes, trying to anchor myself, though my mind is still reeling. “A few weeks ago… Aubrey made me an elderberry latte.”
“But she said she was experimenting with new flavors. She stood there while I drank it.” My mouth goes dry. “She wanted to see me drink it.”
Theo’s head snaps toward me so fast I almost wince. The speed of his reaction catches me off guard, but I don’t look away. I can’t. Not now.
The room seems to freeze. Theo’s eyes darken, his face drawn tight with disbelief. I can’t read him anymore. What did this mean? Was she really behind it all? My pulse picks up, racing in my ears, but I keep going, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “She said she was experimenting. It didn’t feel right, but I—I didn’t think…”
Theo pushes back from the table abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. I can see his hand trembling as it runs through his hair. It’s as if everything inside him is snapping into place, just like it is for me.
Orion curses under his breath. “That’s it. That’s the connection. The cyanide, the elderberries, the pattern—it’s all her.”
Bennett mutters under his breath before looking at Morgan. “We don’t have enough for an arrest, do we?”
Morgan shakes her head, her expression dark. “No. Not yet.”
“But it’s more than enough to bring in outside help,” Orion says, reading her mind.
Morgan meets his gaze, steady and unflinching. “I was going to tell you eventually, but now seems as good a time as any—I’m bringing in the FBI.”
Orion beams at her, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard today, Firefly.”
I frown. “Won’t that tip her off?”
“She might already know we’re onto her,” Morgan says grimly. “We’ve never known this side of her, she could just be playing with us.”
Orion abruptly gets up from where he’s sitting at the table. “I’m calling my team.” And just like that, he strides out of the room.
A heavy silence settles over the group.
Bennett throws his cards down on the table with an exaggerated groan. “For the record, I was about to win that round.”
“Sure you were,” Celeste deadpans, earning a smirk from Theo.
A heavy silence settles over the room.
Morgan lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. Then, her expression steels again, and she stands abruptly. “I need to make some calls. The sooner, the better.” She grabs her phone and heads toward the door.
Theo raises an eyebrow. “Morgan.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re calling them now, aren’t you?”
She doesn’t even glance back. “Damn right, I am.” And then she’s gone.
The game is over.
Now it’s war.