Chapter 3

Ivy's POV

Once I'd finished at the plant, I got out of there as fast as I could. At home I changed and burned everything I'd been wearing that had blood on it.

That evening, I watched the local news from my bedroom. The fire at the old chemical plant got a brief mention. The anchor moved right on to the next story. I knew how far down that waste pit went because I'd been in it myself. I doubted anyone would go looking that deep.

After dinner, my uncle and aunt cornered me in the living room. Between the two of them, I could barely get a word in. College hadn't even come up. What they wanted to discuss was who I was going to marry.

"You hear a word I just said?" my uncle asked. "I'm your uncle, Ivy. You really think I'd steer you wrong?"

"At least look at me when I'm talking to you," my aunt said. "You know better than that."

I kept both hands around my chipped enamel mug. The ceiling fan hummed above us, wobbling a little with every turn. It looked one loose screw away from coming down. My knuckles stuck out against the enamel.

I ran my thumb over a callus on the pad of one finger, and for a moment all I could think about was how long it had taken me to get it.

The first thing I'd done after escaping the offshore lab in my last life was track down my uncle and aunt and kill their entire family.

Now here they were, sitting right in front of me. My uncle still had that plain, open face people took for honesty. My aunt still watched me with the same sharp eyes. After everything I'd done to them, it was almost ridiculous to hear them lecturing me again.

I was just shy of five when an explosion at the factory killed both my parents. The settlement took into account that I'd lost them both. There was a monthly check meant to support me until I turned eighteen. As soon as my uncle and aunt became my guardians, the checks went to them, and they moved their family into our house.

At that age I didn't even know there was money coming in. The adults who could have told me were the same ones who kept reminding me how much it cost to raise me. According to them, I'd be paying them back for the rest of my life. I believed every word. I'd just lost my parents. Who else was I supposed to trust?

One day my parents' picture was in the living room, and the next there was a photo of my uncle and aunt in its place. They took my parents' bedroom. Amber got mine, and Taylor moved into the study. I remember standing outside the storage room with a blanket in my arms. That was where I was supposed to sleep.

Everybody told me the same thing. My uncle's family had taken me in, so of course they got the good rooms. I ought to be grateful they'd made room for me at all. I started doing chores because I thought they might throw me out if I didn't. Before long, if there was dinner to cook, a floor to mop, or a load of laundry to fold, it was mine to do.

Sometimes I'd find a place to hide and cry. My uncle always knew how to sound gentle when he came looking for me. He'd bring a box of mini cupcakes and talk to me in that soft voice of his.

"You know your aunt gets worked up," he'd say. "Amber and Taylor are the same way. They'll cool off. We're family, honey. Try to remember what we've done for you, okay? Be good for me."

Back then, I had no idea my parents' money was keeping me fed. His family had been living off me the whole time.

I'd sat through this conversation once before. The two of them were going to push me to marry Castillo, the boss's son. They could spend the rest of the evening arguing their case. In two weeks the hurricane would make landfall, and a wedding would be the last thing anybody cared about. The world they were making all these plans for was about to come apart.

A drop of spit hit my eyelid. I blinked and found my aunt still talking.

"You lost your folks young, Ivy. I've raised you like one of my own, so of course I'm thinking about what's best for you." She waved a hand, her cheeks flushed. "Do you have any idea what the Castillos are worth? Hundreds of millions. You marry that boy and you'll never have to worry about money again."

I took a sip of cold water. "If you want the Castillo money that bad, why don't you marry into the family? You might be a little old for the son, but you could always try his dad."

Her face went scarlet. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

"My aunt," I said. "The one trying to marry me off to an idiot."

I looked her in the eye and had to remind myself what would happen if I let my temper get the better of me. As far as I knew, the police had nothing tying me to the men at the plant.

If my aunt and uncle both turned up dead, I'd be the first person anybody came to question. I'd spend the next two weeks with somebody watching every move I made. And with both of them gone, who would handle the talks with the Castillos?

I'd come back with nothing to my name. Even if I sold the house, the proceeds wouldn't cover everything I needed to stockpile before the storm. But I remembered the amount the Castillos had been willing to pay. They could dress it up however they liked. It was hush money, and it was a hell of a lot of it.

I lowered my eyes to the mug. The fan's shadow moved across the water, and the corners of my mouth lifted.