Page 8 of Diamonds

He shakes his head.“Absolutely not.”

“But I was the one who spoke to her.Who got her to speak to me.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth.”He crouches down next to me.“First of all, we don’t know that May’s death has anything to do with her breaking the rules of the club.Second of all, even if thatisthe case, you had nothing to do with killing her.No one could have foreseen something like this happening.”

Then his eyes twitch slightly.

“Maddox, what is it?”

“What is what, baby?”

“That last thing you said.”I narrow my eyes at him.“Your eye twitched.”

He frowns.“Did it?”

I slowly get to my feet.“Do you know something I don’t know about this?”

He gestures to the hatbox on the picnic table.“About May?Of course not.I was as surprised as you when I opened that box.”

“But you’re notshocked, are you?”

He runs his hands through his hair.“I mean… Let’s just say, I’ve had afeelingabout Rouge for some time.”

I widen my eyes.“Then why do you still keep going to her club?”

He blinks.“Because it was just that, Alissa.A feeling.I had no evidence to back up my thoughts about her.Innocent until proven guilty.”

“I think you’ll find enough evidence in that damned hatbox.”

“Of course, baby.”He grabs my hands.“And now that we have proof that Rouge is evil incarnate, we’re going to take the bitch down.”

* * *

I can’t believe it.The day has finally come.

I’m going to be free of my mother forever.The wicked witch who made my childhood a living hell will no longer have any power over me.

Yes, I understand that she’s sick.She has OCD and a personality disorder.

An explanation isn’t an excuse.

Things have never gotten quite as bad as the day she broke every dish in the kitchen, but they’ve come close.

For instance, the day I told her that I had decided to pursue a degree in flute performance at university, she broke a window.

Just one window, not every window in the house.So I suppose that’s progress.

She’s been trying to talk me out of it ever since.We finally came to a compromise.I told her I’d fill in my extra credit hours with classes for an anatomy minor.I was decent at biology in secondary school, and I’ve always found the human body fascinating.And the anatomy minor won’t require any labs, so I won’t have to dissect anything.

But the flute is my calling.That I know.Dad started me on lessons five years ago.He said he had read that learning to play a musical instrument was good for my mental development, but honestly?I think he just wanted to give me an excuse to get out of the house once a week.My teacher, Mrs.Beach, used to play with the Royal Philharmonic, and she’s been very pleased with my progress, said I had real career potential, especially if I could get into a school in the States.

But even more than that, something takes over me when I perform.It’s like a light from within envelops my entire body.A light that my mother did her damnedest to snuff out the first eighteen years of my life, but it never quite dissipated.

And hell.Flute lessons are cheaper than therapy.

So I’m jumping in with both feet.Pursue it full time.Once I finish with undergrad, I’ll get a master’s degree.If things don’t pan out in the performance arena, I can always teach.And I’ll have that stupid anatomy minor to fall back on as well, I suppose.

The last few days, I’ve noticed that Mum drinks a few glasses of wine every evening.She and Dad normally only drink on the weekends, and even then they try to keep it to a minimum.Dad told me that drinking can aggravate her condition.Typically he keeps an eye on her when she drinks, makes sure she doesn’t fly off the handle.