Page 83 of The Inquirer

“Dad?”

I took a step and was inside the room. That’s when I saw the blood.

Thirty-Five

Nyx

I’d been here for forty-five minutes, and my sister still hadn’t shown up. It had been thirteen years since I’d last seen her, and she was almost an hour late. Part of me hoped nothing had happened to her, but part of me actually hoped something had gone wrong. If that wasn’t the case, it meant she didn’t even care enough to try to get here on time.

As much as I hated it, it didn’t actually surprise me that she didn’t care. After all, she’d walked away from me before. I only had an email to tell me that anything was different. And no reason why.

That was the real reason I was here. Sure, I had a tiny bit of hope that Dara had actually meant what she’d said in that email, and she wanted to apologize for everything that’d happened, but I wasn’t stupid. I hadn’t been trying to think about what her other possible motivations could be, but I figured they existed. No, the main reason I’d come was to figure out why she’d reached out to me.

But it didn’t look like I’d get any answers. Not now and probably not ever.

At least I’d had a good lunch, and now I thought I’d treat myself to dessert. I might as well get some sugar in my system. Once I finished, I’d head back to the ranch and see if Bradyn had heard from his father.

It wasn’t until I motioned for the waitress to come over that I realized people were looking at me…with weird expressions on their faces. And looking at their phones, then at me again.

I frowned as the look registered.

Fear.

They were scared of something.

Of me?

What. The. Hell.

“Delia Check.”

I froze, half-turned in my seat, and watched three police officers walk toward me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them that wasn’t my name anymore, but I couldn’t speak.

“Delia Check, also known as Delia Phoenix, you’re under arrest for the murder of Clancy Traylor.”

My jaw dropped.

Fuck me.