Chapter 8: Storm

"Well," Daphne said again, softly, in the doorway of the old dry cleaner. "So you do remember."

Dr. Wheelock stood up.

He was not a big man, and his wife still held the slide, but he put himself between us without being asked.

"Miss Hartwell," he said. "This is my laboratory."

"I know. I'm so proud to be in it."

"Then you'll understand that what is written in this notebook belongs to the person who wrote it."

Daphne looked at the green cover in my hands.

Her thoughts rolled over, quick and furious. He's chosen her already. After one afternoon. After I carried his coffee for a week.

"Of course," she said, and her voice was lovely.

She crossed the room and kissed my cheek.

Her mouth was at my ear.

"You think you've won something," she whispered. "I know how this ends, Leonie. I was there."

She walked out, and the bell rang behind her.

Mrs. Wheelock put her arm around my shoulders.

"I don't know what she means," she said, "and I don't think I want to."

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was Kellan.

I'm outside. The photographer wants the lake house before the weather turns. Library?

I looked at the message for a long time.

Then I typed: Not the library. I'll explain in the car.

The black car was waiting at the curb, with the engine running.

Kellan held the door for me.

He glanced at the faded sign above the dry cleaner, and he read WHEELOCK LABORATORY on the paper.

Keep reading free with an account. Start She Kept the Trash, I Kept the Crown from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.