Chapter 36 #2
“Approach the altar one at a time,” the Council member said. “Speak your deepest secret.”
The first girl stepped forward. She was trembling, and her cheeks were pink.
“I...” she started, then swallowed hard. “I had an affair with my English professor in my freshman year.”
The chamber was silent. No gasps, no reactions. Just dozens of eyes watching and judging.
The girl went on, giving us the full details of the story. Names, places, and so on. Finally, she stumbled back from the altar, and the next one took her place.
One by one, the girls confessed, each secret more scandalous than the last. Each confession was delivered with the eerie calm of someone who couldn't stop themselves from speaking.
Finally, it was my turn.
I approached the altar on unsteady legs, hyperaware of all the eyes on me. The Council. The Reapers. Roman, looking concerned. Julian, looking...
I couldn't read his expression at first, but a few seconds later, it finally clicked.
He was worried.
It suddenly dawned on me that I could destroy him right now, if I truly wanted to get revenge on him for everything he’d done to me in the past. I could tell the Club everything; that I'd been investigating them, that I'd found the tunnels, that I’d infiltrated their initiation ceremony.
I could expose how Julian had lied to cover it up. Betrayed his own Club for me.
I could end him with that single confession… and he knew it. That was what the concern in his expression was about. He was standing there, completely vulnerable, waiting to see if I'd choose revenge.
The words pressed against my lips, demanding to be spoken, but I didn’t say them. Because beneath the serum's influence, beneath all the confusion and anger and fear, there was something else. Something I'd been trying to deny for weeks, but couldn't any longer.
I didn't want to destroy Julian. Even after everything he'd done, even knowing what he was capable of, I didn't want to hurt him.
“My confession is about me and my sister,” I began.
Julian's posture shifted slightly. Relief, maybe, or continued wariness. He still didn't know where I was going with this.
“And our mother, too,” I added. “It all started with her.”
The relief on Julian’s face was unmistakable now. Whatever I was about to confess, it wasn't about him.
I drew a shaky breath and continued.
“My mom is a wonderful person, but she’s never been good at sustaining romantic relationships.
” My voice sounded distant and mechanical under the serum's influence.
“She broke up with my sister's father when she was three months pregnant with her. Three years later, she broke up with my father when I was a toddler. After that, she hopped from man to man.”
I paused, the memories crowding in.
“Only one relationship lasted longer than a few months. His name was Neil.”
The name tasted bitter on my tongue.
“Neil was really nice to us. Said he wanted to take care of us. My sister and I loved him, but we noticed that Mom changed a lot after we moved in with him. She seemed jittery and anxious all the time, and she wore a lot more makeup than usual,” I went on.
“We were only eight and nine years old, so we couldn’t understand what was really going on.
Not until they let us out of school early one day, and we decided to walk home instead of calling Mom.
When we got there… we heard them fighting.
But it wasn’t just an argument. Neil was attacking Mom. Really going for her.”
I paused to swallow the lump that had gathered in my throat. Roman was staring at me with recognition flickering in his eyes. He'd already heard this story from Cal.
“Mom was bleeding and bruised when it was over.” I closed my eyes briefly. “My sister and I were terrified and crying our eyes out, and we wanted to leave. But she told us it had only happened that one time. She said it was because Neil was stressed from his job, and she’d made him angry.”
The chamber was completely silent now.
“She promised she'd leave if it ever happened again.” I opened my eyes, staring at a point on the wall.
“We believed her because we were too young to know any better. But over the next year, we got better at noticing things. The makeup patterns. The way she flinched. The arguments at night when she thought we were asleep.” The words came faster now, pushed out by the serum.
“We realized it had been happening all along.
Neil had been beating our mother regularly.
And she was too afraid to leave or call the police because he told her he'd come after us—her girls—if she ever tried.”
I could feel my face flushing hot, shame and old rage mixing together.
“She stayed. She hid the bruises with makeup. She tried to act like everything was normal so we wouldn't be scared,” I went on.
Roman's expression had grown darker. He knew what came next.
“Then one day, during a fight, Neil pushed her down the stairs.” My voice dropped.
“She broke multiple bones. He told the doctors it was an accident; that she slipped and fell.
She completely backed him up. But my sister and I knew the truth.
We knew she could've died, and we knew it was only a matter of time until it happened again.
We also knew she'd never tell the police what really happened, because she was too terrified of what he'd do to us. So nothing would ever happen to Neil unless...” I trailed off, then pushed forward. “Unless we did something ourselves.”
The serum wouldn't let me stop now.
“We talked about it. Made a plan. We acted like we had no idea what had really happened with the stairs. Like everything was fine.” My hands were shaking.
“Then we told Neil we wanted to play 'witches' and make magic potions in the kitchen. Just mixing up whatever we found in the fridge and cupboards.”
I could picture it so clearly. His indulgent smile. The way he'd ruffled my hair.
“He thought it was cute. Told us to go ahead and have fun. So we made a bunch of different concoctions. Orange juice and mustard, milk and barbecue sauce, ketchup and coffee.” A bitter smile touched my lips.
“We made him taste each one, and he played along because he always did. Always acted like the great, supportive stepdad.”
My voice had gone flat now, emotionless.
“Then he drank the last one. All of it, because we made it taste pretty good. Lemonade mixed with strawberry syrup, cinnamon…” I paused. “And rat poison from the garage.”
I heard one of the girls gasp behind me. Someone shushed her immediately.
“It took him a long time to die.” The serum made me speak the words without inflection, like I was reciting a grocery list. “We waited until we were sure it was too late. Then we called 911.”
I finally looked at the Council directly.
“We told everyone we couldn't remember exactly what we'd put in our 'magic potions.
' Just stuff we grabbed from everywhere.
We also said that we'd told Neil he shouldn't drink any of them, but he must've misheard us and thought we were saying he should.” I swallowed.
“We cried hysterically. Really sold the performance. And we were just kids, so everyone genuinely believed it was a tragic accident.”
The chamber was deathly quiet.
“They never suspected two little girls of murder, and our mother never questioned it, either.”
I took a shaky breath.
“So… that's my secret,” I said. “When I was a child, my sister and I poisoned our mother's abusive boyfriend and made it look like an accident.”
The silence in the chamber stretched for another moment.
When I glanced at Julian, he was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite interpret. Something between anger and approval with a dash of something else that almost looked like respect. Or maybe that was just the serum making me see things that weren't there.
The Council member who'd been leading the ritual finally nodded. “Your confession is recorded. You may step back.”
I stumbled away from the altar, my legs barely holding me up. An attendant guided me to the side where the other girls stood, all of us looking shell-shocked and hollow.
The first part of the trial was over. Our darkest secrets had been recorded and filed away, ready to be used against us if we ever betrayed the Club.
But the night wasn’t over yet.
“The confessions are complete,” the Council member announced. “Now, each of you will be escorted to a private chamber for the sacred coupling.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. The truth serum was still coursing through my system, making everything feel heightened and raw. I watched as the first girl was led away through a side door, then the second, then the third.
Then it was my turn. An attendant gestured for me to follow him, and I did, my feet moving automatically even as my mind raced.
We walked through another corridor, this one narrower and dimmer. I could see cameras mounted in the corners, their red lights blinking. Recording everything.
Finally, we stopped in front of a heavy wooden door.
“Your chamber, Miss Calloway,” the attendant said. He opened the door and stepped aside.
I took a deep breath and walked in. The room was smaller than I'd expected, but still beautiful.
More torches flickered in bronze sconces, casting warm light across the marble floor, and in the center stood an altar.
Not for sacrifices, but for... another kind of ritual.
It was draped in white silk and strewn with rose petals; almost romantic if not for the cameras mounted in the corners above.
Three cameras. All aimed at the altar. All recording. And there, standing beside the altar, was Julian.
When his eyes met mine, something tightened in my chest.
“Violet,” he said. Just hearing my name in his deep voice made my pulse quicken.
The door closed behind me with a soft click, leaving us alone… except for the cameras.
Julian took a step toward me, his expression unreadable. “You know what’s expected here.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from him. “Yes.”