Poppy
Her gaze darts to the sliding doors that lead out to the patio area behind Lillith.
If she manages to exit those doors, what would she do?
Jump overboard? There’s at least a fifteen-story drop to the ocean.
Water is not compressible. She’d slam into it like it was concrete, break every bone in her body.
Even if she did survive, she’s not a swimmer.
There’s not one athletic molecule in her middle-aged body.
“If this is about Paz,” she says, “I didn’t do it. I was acquitted. I—”
She goes to the chair, lowers herself slowly onto the edge of it.
“Can Avi get you something to drink?” Lillith asks.
“What? No. I just want to know what’s going on.
” Her gaze goes to Lillith’s ornate cane.
The same cane she had with her on that bench in Brighton, where she sat waiting to trap Poppy, ready to cast a net to lure her to Scotland.
A silvery black widow from a Scottish castle.
She looks terrifying in her frail paleness. Or because of it.
“Not even a G&T?”
Poppy would actually kill for a strong drink. Something to blot this out, make it all go away. She feels like Alice who’s slipped through the looking glass into an alternate reality—cruising her way toward Santorini with Avi guarding her exits like some trained assassin.
“No. I don’t want a drink. I want to know what you want with me, what game you’re playing.” Her voice comes out croaky. But she clears her throat and fights for more stridency. “Because if this is about Paz and the—”
“The poisoning?” Lillith angles her head.
“I told you I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill him. It wasn’t me who put those leaves in his tea. I—”
“Poppy, Poppy.” Lillith sighs gently. “We both know you’d be in prison right now if it wasn’t for my excellent legal counsel.”
Poppy’s jaw drops. She stares. Her gaze shoots to Avi. He remains motionless. A statue. Her attention darts back to Lillith. Her heart is racing so fast it’s about to bust free of her chest.
“It—it was pro bono. It—”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“You hired them?” she whispers.
Lillith nods.
“Why?”
“Tell me why you did it. Why did you poison your husband?”
She’s speechless, still trying to process. Everything is racing through her brain at once.
“I need you to be honest, Poppy.”
“It—it was either him or me.” She hesitates.
“He put me in the hospital seven times. Each time was worse. The last time he broke my arm in two places, cracked three ribs—one punctured my liver, and I had a concussion. I—I almost bled to death internally. I—” As she speaks, memories explode inside her and overwhelm the present.
Her eyes prickle with emotion. “I’m so sorry.
I—I’m not a killer. I was so trapped, and I didn’t know what to do.
I tried to leave, and he always came after me.
I also reported him to the police, and they did nothing.
One of the detectives was connected to the organized crime ring that Paz did jobs for, and he told Paz I’d been at the station. And—”
“That’s why, Poppy.”
She stills.
Lillith studies her. “That’s why I hired the best defense counsel I could find for you.”
She blinks.
Lillith leans forward. “I’ve been watching you for years, Poppy.
I always had some idea where you were.” Lillith swallows, wavers.
Emotion shows in the tightening of her features.
“I was watching even when the paramedics came rushing out of the hospital to rescue you from the Tardis. You see, it was me, Poppy, who phoned the police from the booth. I waited just until I saw the EMTs arrive and take you into the hospital. I got away before the cops came. But I left only after I knew you were in safe arms.” Tears leak down her cheek.
“You? It was you who abandoned me?”
“You’re mine, Poppy.”