But I also have to remember that the Gables don’t deserve happy lives either. They’re the ones who started this. They literally got away with murder. I owe my mother justice. I can’t have a real relationship with Lander. I probably can’t have a real relationship with anyone. That’s just the way it is. But if I let my mother down again, if I fail, my life is completely worthless.

There has to be justice.

I pick up the phone record and walk over to the printer, slip it under the lid, and press copy.

There has to be justice.

chapter thirty-five

When I get to Jessica and Travis’s penthouse, Jessica answers the door before I even have a chance to finish knocking. Her eyes are red and I wonder what unique horror Travis has put her through this time.

“Shall we go shopping?” she asks, stepping out before I can step in.

“But I thought we were going to do that when I wasn’t scheduled to work.”

“You work,” Jessica says between tightly clenched teeth, “for me. You’re my personal assistant. Do you remember that? Or have you forgotten?”

“No, I . . .”

“For me, for me, for me!”

I take a small step back. It would seem that today’s meds aren’t sitting well.

“I want to go to brunch,” Jessica says as she carefully locks the door behind her. “That’s where we’re going, to brunch. And then we’re going shopping because you work for me.”

“You’re right,” I say slowly. “I work for you.”

A small but victorious smile plays on Jessica’s lips. “Good girl.”

She actually pats me on the head . . . like a dog.

I take a deep breath. It’s fine. All of this is fine. In the end Jessica will be the one with her tail between her legs.

For the first half of brunch, Jessica and I sit in silence, mostly because she can’t stop drinking long enough to get more than a few words out. On the plus side, she sips her Bloody Mary very slowly. It would really be fine if she would only give herself more than a few seconds off between each leisurely sip. And in combination with the drugs . . . well, it’s not good.

My phone vibrates in my purse and I glance down at it to see a text from Lander.

How is my beautiful spy?

I look up quickly at Jessica as if she might have been able to read from my expression the context of the message. But of course her eyes remain on her glass. It was so careless of Lander to text me something like that while I’m working.