Page 187 of On Edge

She doesn’t sit but wrings her hands. “What was in that pie? Not the tin, surely?”

“Oh, mother. I thought you’d be more worried about the incriminating evidence in these documents.”

“What evidence?”

“Sit down.”

Eventually, she sinks into her chair, and I pass them to her to look at. She takes them, shaking, her hands doing a rubbish job of holding them still.

“These are the financial records from his pet food factory showing payments to your personal accounts. And here’s a message between you and Father about disposing of evidence through an offshore biodisposal company. And this document shows human remains found in the meat at the processing facility.”

“I didn’t know any of this. I swear.”

“But you did know.” I slide a set of photographs toward her. On it is a picture of her at the factory with her father at night,during a delivery arrival. Her face looks grim, saying it all, really. “You knew exactly where the ‘meat’ was coming from.”

Her eyes become glassy. “He said we’d lose everything if I didn’t.

“So you helped him cover it up. And when I discovered the truth, you let him hurt me and then let me believe I was crazy?”

She drags in a breath and then another. “Don’t tell Nicholai.”

“Oh, I won’t, if you give me what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“The truth. I want to know what happened that night I fell. Tell me everything, and I’ll make this disappear.” She deserves to rot in prison, but she’s also my mother.

Melanie stares at me, as though seeing me for the first time, and begins to talk.

I walkthe streets of Whitechapel for a long time. Jaxon came home, took one look at me, and sent me out to get some fresh air while he cleaned the mess I’d made in the kitchen.

God, that man is a neat freak.

He also hates waste, so thank god I remembered to tell him, under no circumstances, to eat the pies; instead, bin them.

At last, I feel free.

Feeding human remains to my mother has become the best memory a girl could hope for.

The Christmas market is in full swing when I finally stop walking. Lights are strung between lampposts, and there is the smell of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts wafting through the air. Families roam past, dragging children by the hand, squealing with delight over decorations, the lit-up snowmen, and the reindeer.

There’s a buzz in my pocket, and I have a slew of messages from an unknown number.

It's me, Nola. I have a new phone.

Where are you? Laine's freaking out after you showed up the other night, covered in dirt and blood!

Tell her I'm fine. Not dead yet anyway.

That isn't funny

Nothing about this is funny. He found me in Quinn’s safe house. Had to leave everything.

Who is this guy?! You still haven’t told us. Come to Grayfleet. Troy has security!

I love you, but sweetie, you can’t protect me from this. This is my mess, and I need to clean it. The less you know, the better. Turns out you can't run the devil, you can only piss him off.

Please. Let us help you!