Chapter 17 Say Something
The old woman’s hand was still warm in hers.
Veyra knelt on the marble floor, her throat still sore, her cheek still throbbing, and tried to steady her breathing. The room was quiet now. The chaos had settled. But the eyes on her had not softened. If anything, they had sharpened.
Eleanor had not moved from where she stood. Her arms were still crossed. Her sharp features were arranged into something that looked like satisfaction.
"You think this changes anything?" Eleanor said.
Veyra looked at her. "She’s alive. That changes everything."
"No." Eleanor shook her head. "She’s alive despite you. Not because of you."
Veyra felt something hot rise in her chest. She had been slapped. She had been choked. She had watched a woman almost die and brought her back with nothing but her own knowledge and her own hands. And now this woman was standing here, twisting it into something ugly.
"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Veyra asked. Her voice was hoarse but steady.
Eleanor smiled. It was not a nice smile.
"I’m not accusing you of anything," Eleanor said. "I’m stating facts. You came here today, uninvited. You stressed out an old woman with a weak heart. You knew she would collapse. You had that medication ready because you planned this whole thing."
Veyra stared at her. "I planned for your mother-in-law to have a rare arrhythmia?"
"You provoked her." Eleanor’s voice was cold. "Deliberately. You wanted her to have an episode so you could play the hero. So you could force your way into this family."
"That’s insane."
"Is it?" Eleanor took a step closer. Her heels clicked on the marble. "You show up here with your homemade potions and your sob story about your dead grandmother. You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted to save a life so we would all owe you. So we couldn’t throw you out."
Veyra stood up. Her ankle protested. She ignored it.
"I didn’t know your mother-in-law was going to collapse," she said. "I didn’t even know she was in the house until she walked through the door. How could I have planned this?"
"You could have poisoned her."
The words hung in the air.
Veyra’s mouth opened and closed and it opened once again.
"I saved her life," she said. "I saved her life, and you’re standing here accusing me of poisoning her?"
"You’re a stranger," Eleanor said. "A bloody nobody. You married a man you barely know for his money. You’re carrying a child that might not even be his. And you expect us to trust you? To believe that you just happened to have the exact medication she needed in your bag?"
Veyra’s hands were shaking. She pressed them against her thighs.
"I have that medication because I made it," she said. "I have it because I carry it with me. In case something happens. In case someone needs it."
"How convenient." Eleanor turned to face the room. "You hear that? She carries life-saving medication everywhere she goes. Like a saint. Like a miracle worker. Doesn’t that strike anyone as strange?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Veyra looked at Dorian. He was standing by his grandmother, his hand on her shoulder, his gray eyes fixed on Eleanor. His face was unreadable.
"Say something," Veyra said, quietly. Just for him.
He did not say anything.