Long Night

She hadn’t expected that question. Margret had never been fully accused outright of doing something before, much less of poisoning. She tried to control her breathing and her reaction to the accusation, but she was honestly so afraid and she couldn't tell. She thought the boy was gone forever and now he was back into their lives, looking like the very nemesis that they had been accorded. She hadn’t run so far away just to continue running again.

Draven sighed heavily. Jerome was very still beside her, but he acted so naturally. He hadn’t asked her to do it, and they were so close. They were so very close; he would have popped a potato in his mouth if her husband hadn't interrupted him.

“Did you poison this, Margret?” Draven asked again, his voice as smooth as usual.

“Why would you even say that?” she whispered, her throat dry. “Why would you even think about that? It’s a full dish!”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Draven looked like he was considering her claims. He raised the large dishing spoon
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