30. Selene
30
Selene
T he glass of sweet tea is cold against my palm, but I can’t bring myself to drink it. The thought of it—of what might be lurking in the amber liquid—churns my stomach. I try not to stare at it too long, try not to let my disgust show, but the weight of the glass feels heavier than it should.
Aubrey’s eyes flick between us, her smile a little too precise, a little too careful. “You’re not drinking,” the lightness in her voice an illusion. There’s a sharper note underneath—dangerous and waiting.
I force a small laugh, swirling the tea in my glass as if I’m savoring it instead of resisting the urge to throw it back in her face. “Oh, I will,” I say smoothly. “Just taking it all in first. This is…beautiful, Aubrey. Truly. I can see why Gabriel loved celebrating anniversaries with you.”
Theo shifts slightly beside me, his knee brushing against mine. It’s a subtle reminder: Stay calm. Stay in control.
Aubrey’s smile relaxes, though her grip on her glass remains firm. “He was the best man I’ve ever known,” she says softly, her voice thick with what sounds like genuine emotion. “Every year, I tried to make it special for him. He deserved that much.”
A flicker of heat flares in my chest—anger, sharp and searing. Did her other victims deserve that much? Did Theo’s parents? Did George?
I nod, leaning forward just enough to seem invested, meeting her gaze head-on. “Theo mentioned how thoughtful you always were. What was the most over-the-top thing you ever did for him? You already told me about your favorite anniversary he planned.”
Her eyes light up, and for a moment, she’s lost in the memory, in the nostalgia. She starts talking, recounting some elaborate, romantic gesture—meant to be sweet but instead feels like a performance, a carefully constructed narrative meant to manipulate.
As she speaks, I keep swirling my glass, pretending to listen while sneaking a glance at Morgan. She’s leaning back on her hands, her glass resting untouched beside her. Her expression is calm, even amused, but her eyes meet mine briefly, sharp and knowing. We’re all waiting, circling like predators around a snake, ready to strike.
“And Gabriel loved it,” Aubrey finishes with a small, wistful laugh. “He said it was the happiest he’d ever been.”
Theo speaks up then, his voice steady and warm. “He was lucky to have you, Aubrey. You always knew how to make people feel special.”
Her gaze softens as she looks at him. “You’re sweet, Teddy. Just like your father was.”
The mention of his dad sends a ripple of tension through him. I feel it in the way his leg tenses against mine, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. “I like to think I learned it from him,” he says with a faint smile.
Aubrey raises her glass, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “To Gabriel,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “And to the love we shared.”
“To Gabriel,” Theo echoes, lifting his glass. Morgan and I follow suit, the weight of the moment pressing down on us like a heavy fog.
As the glasses clink together, I make sure to angle mine so the rim barely touches my lips without actually drinking. The sweet tea’s scent wafts up, too saccharine and cloying. My stomach twists, but I keep my face neutral.
Morgan is the first to break the silence, her voice light but pointed. “You know, Aubrey, I’ve been thinking a lot about the people who didn’t get to celebrate anniversaries like this. People who had their stories cut short before they had a chance.”
Aubrey’s eyes narrow slightly, but her smile doesn’t falter. “Life can be cruel like that,” she says. “You never know how much time you’ll have.”
Morgan tilts her head, studying her. “That’s true. But sometimes…cruelty isn’t random. Sometimes, it’s a choice.”
The air grows thick, the silence stretching a beat too long. Aubrey’s grip tightens around her glass. She recovers quickly, but I see the flicker of something—annoyance, maybe even caution. “That’s an interesting perspective,” she says slowly. “But I prefer to focus on the good things, the people who matter. Like Gabriel.”
Like Gabriel. As if she hadn’t taken him from us.
I swallow the bile rising in my throat, my fingers curling around my glass so tightly it’s a wonder it doesn’t shatter. “Of course,” I say, forcing the words out before Morgan can push further. “He’d want us to focus on the good. That’s what today is about, right?”
Aubrey’s expression softens again, and she nods. “Exactly. It’s what he would’ve wanted.”
But she doesn’t know what Gabriel would have wanted. Not really. Because he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want his story cut short.
And neither did the others.
The tension thrums beneath my skin, hot and electric. I can feel it in Theo too, in the way his breath is just a little too controlled, in the rigid set of his shoulders. I can feel it in Morgan, the way her fingers drum idly against her thigh, her patience thinning with every second.
Theo shifts beside me, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “You always did have a way of making things perfect, Aunt Aubrey. Even when the odds weren’t in your favor.”
Aubrey’s smile stills, her eyes narrowing just slightly before she smooths the expression away. “It’s all about determination,” she replies, voice light but edged with steel. “If you want something badly enough, you find a way to make it happen.”
I clench my fingers around my glass, the cold from the sweet tea seeping into my palm. My stomach churns. If you want something badly enough, you find a way to make it happen. Like Gabriel’s death? Like the others?
Theo’s smile doesn’t waver. “Yeah, you’ve always been good at that.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Aubrey’s fingers tighten around her glass, her knuckles whitening. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to decide if we’re onto her or if this is just a pleasant if slightly odd, conversation.
“You know,” she says, her tone carefully casual, “Gabriel used to say that too. Even the day he…” Her words taper off, and for a moment, her mask flickers.
Morgan leans forward slightly. “The day he…what?”
Aubrey’s smile falters for the first time, her eyes darting between us. “The day he passed. I—I was actually with him earlier that day. I brought him lunch at the station.”
A pulse of white-hot rage flashes through me. She says it like it’s nothing like it’s an anecdote and not a confession laced with honey. Next to me, Theo stiffens, his knee brushing against mine—a silent anchor. Morgan’s sharp gaze lands on Aubrey, but she doesn’t strike yet.
“That was sweet of you,” I manage, keeping my voice neutral even as my heart pounds. “Gabriel must’ve loved that.”
Aubrey nods quickly, her words tumbling out now. “He was stressed, you know? He’d been looking into files on his computer, and I just wanted to cheer him up. I thought some sweet tea and his favorite sandwich might help.”
I swallow hard, bile rising in my throat. Sweet tea. The same tea I refuse to drink now. The same tea I suspect killed him.
Theo tilts his head, his voice deceptively calm. “What was he stressed about?”
Aubrey hesitates, her grip on her glass tightening again. “Oh, it was nothing. Just some…work stuff. He didn’t say.”
Morgan leans forward, her voice razor-sharp. “He didn’t say, or you didn’t ask?”
Aubrey flinches.
Her eyes flick to Theo, then to me, her composure cracking just slightly. “He was talking about someone looking into files. He thought it was a hacker or a breach. I—I don’t know the details.”
Theo leans forward, his voice quiet but firm. “What did he say, Aubrey?”
She swallows hard, her eyes darting away. “I don’t remember exactly. He just mentioned about someone looking into me. And…Theo.”
My stomach clenches. A wave of sadness swells inside me, pressing against my ribs—for Bennett for not knowing that looking into his family would be the catalyst. And now, Theo sits beside me, his jaw tight, his hands curling into fists. I can feel the anger radiating off him in waves.
Morgan doesn’t move, her eyes locked on Aubrey like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Aubrey forces a laugh, though it comes out shaky. “It was probably nothing. Gabriel was always so protective. He worried too much.”
“But you were worried too,” I say softly, my voice steady even as my heart pounds. “Worried enough to… Take action?”
Her eyes snap to mine, and for a moment, I see it—the fear, the guilt, the truth she’s been trying so desperately to hide. The mask is slipping, no matter how hard she tries to hold it in place.
Aubrey’s knuckles are white as they grip the glass, her expression taut. Her eyes dart between us, looking for a way out of the conversation. She forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says lightly, though her voice wavers just enough to betray her unease.
A tight coil builds inside me, my hands clench into fists on the blanket. The audacity. The sheer, disgusting audacity of this woman—sitting here, pretending to be fragile, pretending to be the victim, while the people she’s destroyed are still bleeding from wounds she inflicted. Gabriel. Theo’s parents. Her first husband. How many more?
Morgan doesn’t give her the chance to regroup. She leans forward, her tone deceptively casual. “Don’t you? Because it seems like you remember a lot about that day. Your memory seems to be doing much better than it was after he died. Like how you just so happened to bring Gabriel lunch while he dealing with a major stressor. Almost like you knew he’d need a distraction.”
Aubrey’s lips part, but no words come out. She blinks rapidly, as if trying to keep up. “I was being a good wife,” she says finally, her voice defensive. “I brought him lunch all the time! Is that a crime now?”
A crime? My pulse pounds in my ears. She says it so casually like she hasn’t left a trail of bodies in her wake.
“No, of course not,” Theo cuts in, his tone calm and measured, though I can feel the tension radiating off him. I know him. I know what he looks like when he’s barely holding himself together. His fingers twitch against his knee, his jaw tight, his breathing measured but forced.
My heart aches for him. For the fact that he has to sit here, face-to-face with a woman who stole people from him, and pretend like he’s not burning alive inside.
“But…” Theo tilts his head, studying her. “You knew he was stressed. You knew someone was looking into you. And you didn’t think to ask why?”
Her eyes widen slightly, and she shakes her head. “No! I—I didn’t know anything about that. Gabriel never said anything. He was probably just being paranoid.”
“Paranoid?” I echo, arching a brow. “About someone digging into your past? Your late husband’s autopsy?”
Aubrey flinches as if struck, her composure cracking further. “That’s not fair,” she says, her voice breaking. “Gabriel was under a lot of pressure. He was probably imagining things.”
I see red.
I think of Gabriel, of his kindness, of how much he meant to Mo. To Theo. To this town. I think of all the lives shattered because of her, of the people who will never come back.
“Was he?” Morgan presses, her tone sharp now, cutting straight through the illusion Aubrey’s trying to weave. “Or did he stumble onto a truth you didn’t want him to find?”
Aubrey’s breath catches, and for a moment, she looks genuinely shaken. Then, as if flipping a switch, her eyes brim with tears, and her lip trembles. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of this,” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. “After everything I’ve been through. I loved Gabriel. He was my world. How can you sit there and twist this into something so ugly?”
She’s good . The trembling shoulders, the choked sobs, the broken, grieving widow act—it’s flawless. If I didn’t know better, I might have believed her.
But I do know better.
Because I see Theo’s fists clenching. I see the way Morgan’s nostrils flare, her face unreadable but her body taut like a coiled wire.
She presses a hand to her chest, her shoulders shaking as another sob escapes her. “He’s gone. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To lose the love of your life and then have the people you care about turn on you?” Her voice cracks, and she hides her face in her hands, her sobs muffled.
Theo, Morgan, and I exchange a glance, silently agreeing to stay the course.
“You’re right,” I say softly, my tone laced with sympathy. “It’s horrible. Losing someone like that…it’s unimaginable.” My throat tightens, my heart hammering against my ribs. Theo knows that pain. Mo knows that pain. And it’s because of you. As much as I want to confront her with those five words, we need to ease into it.
Theo leans in slightly, his voice steady despite the storm that’s clearly raging inside him. “You’re not the only one who lost him, Aubrey. We all did. And we deserve to know the truth.”
Her sobs hitch, and she looks up, her tear-streaked face a mask of anguish. “The truth?” she whispers. “The truth is that I loved him. I would’ve done anything for him. And now he’s gone, and you’re sitting here trying to tear me apart.”
Morgan crosses her arms, her gaze unyielding. “We’re not trying to tear you apart, Aubrey. We’re just trying to understand. Because some things don’t add up. Like how you brought him sweet tea that day. And how he died of cyanide poisoning. Such a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
Silence.
Aubrey freezes, her eyes locking on Morgan. For a split second, her mask slips, and a cold glint flashes in her gaze before she quickly looks away. “I—I didn’t know. I had no idea,” she stammers, her voice quivering.
Theo leans forward, his voice low and steady. “Didn’t you? You didn’t know that elderberries are toxic when they’re not prepared properly? Or that it can cause cyanide poisoning—even death?”
Her hands tremble as she sets her glass down. And just like that, the act is over.
The sobbing stops. The trembling lip disappears.
And when she looks up, her face is blank, her eyes cold and calculating.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says flatly, her voice devoid of emotion now.
A chill sweeps over me, sinking into my bones.
Morgan doesn’t blink, her voice steady as she presses on. “Don’t we? Because it’s funny how everything seems to circle back to you, Aubrey. Gabriel was looking into your past, and suddenly, he’s dead. Cyanide poisoning. The same thing you used in your ‘natural remedies’ at the cafe, if not prepared properly can show up in autopsy reports as cyanide poisoning.”
Aubrey’s lips curl into a faint, humorless smile. “You think you’re so clever,” she murmurs, her tone icy. “But you have no proof. You have nothing.”
Theo straightens, his expression hardening. “The truth has a way of coming out, Aunt Aubrey. It always does.”
Aubrey’s gaze flicks between us, her jaw tightening. For the first time, I see the cracks in her armor—real cracks, not the crocodile tears she used before.
“Careful, Teddy,” she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. “You don’t want to push too hard. You might not like what you find.”
The threat hangs in the air like a knife, sharp and glinting.
I don’t breathe.
Theo doesn’t move.
The world feels too small, the air too thin.
But Theo doesn’t back down.
And neither do I.