Violet’s stomach was a mess now, nervousness swimming with anger and frustration, but when she knocked softly on the door and Trudy opened it, everything else fell away. Blood carved a path on the left side of Trudy’s face, from her hairline down to her jaw. Her bottom lip was swollen and split, and she was stooped over, both arms around her middle. Her perfect red dress was ripped at the side.

“Trudy,” Violet whispered. “Where is he?”

“He’s not here,” Trudy mumbled, her lips barely opening as the words slid out. “Showboat.”

A curse fell from Violet’s lips as she led Trudy to the kitchen for a wet rag. She dabbed the corner of it to Trudy’s cheek, but she winced and pulled away. After a few minutes, Violet had cleaned off most of the dried blood and sat Trudy down on the couch with a juice glass of whiskey she found in the pantry. “Drink this, and hold this to your head.” Violet pressed the damp cloth into Trudy’s hand, but she just stared off into the distance.

“He’ll be home soon.” Trudy’s lips were so puffy, her words were nearly incoherent as they came out.

“Don’t worry about him.” Violet leaned down and made her sister focus on her. “I’ll take care of it. And I’m going to take care of you, Trudy. I promise.”

Leaving Trudy on the couch with a promise to return, Violet walked out the back door and down to the dock to wait. Anger and hatred simmered inside her like a soup pot left on a hot eye. She was no stranger to anger or hatred, but this was something altogether different. This sensation had shape, taste, heat. And her guilt was a bitter root through it all.

At least she’s safe. The bruises might have been shining even in the dim lamplight, the edges already beginning to darken, but inside the house, her sister was safe. Violet would make sure of that.

With shaking fingers, she caressed the simple gold bracelet around her wrist, the delicate birds engraved on it, the clasp that opened a little too easily. She lifted her chin to face the dark sky, hidden behind thick fog, and thought of the man who’d given it to her. He was so kind, so good. As far as he knew, she was the nice girl he was planning to propose to tomorrow night. He had no idea the volume of hatred that lived inside her right this minute.

She traced the edge of the bracelet over and over like a prayer, until her breathing slowed a beat. Then the tinny whine of an outboard Evinrude made its way up the river toward the dock where she stood. Her heartbeat thudded again in her ears, and she clasped her hands together to stop the nervous tremors.

Jay gazed at Violet as he pulled his boat alongside the dock where she stood, willing her five-foot-one stance to look as imposing as possible. Her resolve wilted only a little when Jay silenced the motor and filled the ensuing quiet with a deep rumble of laughter.