Chapter 17
Celeste had planned to burn my apartment.
Not because I was there.
Because my old life was.
My mother’s photos.
Lena’s childhood drawings.
The couch we found on the curb.
The cheap curtains my mother called cheerful even though they faded in a year.
Police caught Celeste in the stairwell with two cans of gasoline and a lighter in her coat.
She claimed she was framed.
Nobody believed her now.
Marion was still missing.
That mattered more.
Celeste in custody was dangerous.
Marion free was worse.
I went to the precinct to give a statement.
Celeste saw me through the glass.
She smiled.
“You look better without the scarf.”
I sat across from her.
Detective Chen stood behind me.
Julian waited outside.
“You framed me,” I said.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No shame.
“Why?”
Celeste leaned back.
“Because you were beautiful in a way that made people quiet. I hated it.”
“You ruined my life because people looked at me?”
“No. I ruined your life because I could.”
The honesty was worse than any excuse.
I stared at her.
“You killed Vivienne.”
Her smile twitched.
“Mother pushed. I watched.”
“You could have saved her.”
“She was going to ruin everything.”
“What everything?”
“My mother’s work. The Vale accounts. The Ashford cover. Your pathetic little bloodline secret.”
I went still.
She laughed softly.
“Yes. We knew who you were before you did.”
Detective Chen leaned forward.
“Where is Marion?”
Celeste looked at me.
“Closer than you think.”
She refused to say more.
As I left, she called after me.
“Mara, ask Julian what happened to the other girl.”
I stopped.
Detective Chen’s face changed.
Julian stood in the hall.
He had heard.
May you like
“What other girl?” I asked.
Julian whispered, “Lena.”
