Chapter 80

"Today's the day, Else," Daisy says, pinning her hair up in a messy bun and shimmying as best she can into the lightest, breeziest sundress she owns. It's a cheerful, billowing yellow, scattered over with white polka dots.

Damn, but the third trimester is uncomfortable as hell. Daisy has never felt so hot and unwieldy in all her life. Everything seems to stick to her skin, and she can't seem to drink enough ice water to slow down the constant drip-drip-drip of sweat down her neck and small of her back.

Elsa looks up from where she was bundling Daisy's bed sheets into the laundry hamper. The sheets have to be changed almost every other day now, because Daisy sweats so much in her sleep, even with the air conditioning running at full blast.

Her mother was the same way during all of her pregnancies, Daisy's been told. It's a common issue for werewolf women. Their bodies run hot. Too hot. Daisy shrugs again, uncomfortable as ever.

"You're finally going to talk to Marcus and Evelyn?" Elsa asks, shoving the last of the bedclothes into the hamper and then moving to the kitchenette to pour out Daisy's single morning cup of coffee. "Like I've been begging you to for days now?"

"Yes, yes," Daisy grumbles, slathering on as much deodorant as she can get away with. She waddles to the kitchenette table and sinks into one of the wooden chairs, wincing as she supports her lower back.

"What are you going to say to them?" Elsa asks, setting down Daisy's coffee and then pouring one for herself. She sits across from Daisy and looks at her expectantly.

"I'm just…going to do what you said," Daisy says. "I"m going to tell them what's been going on, tell them I regret everything, and ask if they can help me. Or if I can help them. Or if we can help each other."

"I think it's a solid plan, Amora," Elsa says, nodding.

"Do you really think they'll listen to me?" Daisy asks in a small, somewhat scared voice. She hates being vulnerable around anyone, but Elsa is the one exception. "I don't want to have this baby in prison, locked up for attempted murder."

Elsa shakes her head. "Marcus and Evelyn would never do that to you," she says. "Trust me, Amora. Trust them. Go on, drink your coffee. You'll see; everything will be all right."

"Knock knock," a voice says, and I look up from my notes to see Marcus leaning in the doorway of my office.

"Hey," I say. "This is a welcome surprise. Come in - what's up?"

"I'm not sure," Marcus says, coming over to give me a quick kiss before settling into a chair and crossing one ankle over a knee. "Daisy called me this morning and asked if we could both meet with her today, as soon as possible."

I frown. "Daisy? I wonder why."

"Me, too," Marcus says. "Something odd is going on, I think. Of course, I told her that we'd be happy to meet her. Hope you don't mind, but I checked your online schedule and saw that you were free."

"Of course I don't mind," I say. "I am curious, though."

"I am, too. I wonder –" Marcus trails off as Daisy appears in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically shy and unsure of herself.

"Marcus? Evelyn?" she asks, sounding wobblier than I've ever heard her. "I need your help."

Marcus sits in a stunned silence, staring at his sister. Daisy is staring at her hands, twisted in her lap. Evelyn is thoughtfully regarding them both, her chin propped up in her palm.

The only sound in the room is the ticking of the wall clock Evelyn brought in last week. It's shaped like a cartoon cat, its eyes and tail twitching with each tick…tock…tick…tock. The whimsy of it strikes Marcus as particularly absurd in this moment.

Marcus is the first to break the silence.

"So, let me get this straight," he says in a low, harsh voice. "You not only know what a lowlife scumbag your sorry excuse for a husband is, you've been actively helping him sabotage this family. You helped him try to murder our father, and you were also planning to help him murder Evelyn and myself.

"Do I have that right?"

Daisy mumbles something incomprehensible and shuffles her feet.

"I'm calling Liam," Marcus says, standing up. "And then we're going to Father. Daisy, I can't even look at you. You'll be lucky if prison is the only outcome for you in this mess. In all my days, I never thought –"

"Wait," Evelyn says. Marcus pauses, his phone half out of his pocket. Daisy looks up at Evelyn, tears streaming down her face.

"Wait," Evelyn says. "Marcus, just wait. We need to talk about this."

"What is there to talk about, Evelyn?" Marcus asks me in disbelief. His hand is still frozen in his jacket pocket, reaching for his phone. "Did you hear what she just confessed to?"

"I did," I say evenly. "But I also heard why. Sit down, Marcus. Let's talk."

I look at Daisy again, who is openly crying now. I hand her a tissue from my desk, which she takes gratefully and scrubs across her cheeks.

"Marcus," I say, keeping my voice as gentle as I can. "Can you do me a favor, and think - really think - about what Daisy is saying here. About being shoved aside because she's a girl, and about worrying that her own daughter will face the same treatment?"

Marcus scowls, but he sits in silence for a few minutes while Daisy continues to sniffle. I wait. Gradually, his scowl shifts into a sort of guilty expression of regret.

"All right," he says. "Yes – well, yes. Daze, I admit that you do have a point, here. And I admire you for wanting to make changes for the pack - I really do. But, come on. Murder? Daisy, you tried to kill Father."

Daisy looks up at him with desperate, searching eyes.

"Marcus," she says in a low voice. "Evelyn. I don't – I don't know how to describe this to you. What I did was horrific. I know that. I hate myself for it. It's like something wild and insane came over me…the more Charles talked, the more everything he said seemed to make sense…"

"And you tried to disagree with him, at first," I suggest flatly. "And then he'd get angry. He'd shout at you, swear at you. Claim that you weren't the woman he married, because the woman he married understood his vision and the necessity of sacrifice to help her husband succeed.

"The more you disagreed, the angrier he got. He talked you in circles. He wouldn't let you sleep at night - he just hammered his points home to you more and more and more, until they started to make a sick sort of sense.

"So, you finally caved. Gave in. Agreed - in little stages. First, it was just about discrediting Marcus. Then, it was about giving your father just enough faulty medication to make him a little sick, a little frail. Enough that he'd have to take an even bigger step back.

"Then, once you agreed, he turned sweet and darling and light again. He was back to being the man you'd married. And what he suggested wasn't so bad, after all. Only, it didn't work. And then his demands got stronger, more sinister.

"And the more he talked, the more what he said sounded defensible. It brought out dark parts of yourself you didn't even realize you had. Until one day you woke up and looked in the mirror and thought, Who the hell have I become? I can't do this anymore - this isn't who I am.

"Am I right?" I finish, looking from Daisy to Marcus. They're both staring at me, open-mouthed.

"How – how the hell did you know all that?" Daisy asks.

I smile at her, grimly. "Let's just say I had a Charles in my life once, too, Daisy.

"Now, it's going to take a hell of a lot for you to rebuild trust with us, Daisy," I say. "Frankly, I'm not sure I'll ever fully trust you again. And I certainly may never like you very much.

"But, given the circumstances, I think we can take a beat on reporting you to the Werewolf Council and at least see if this broken thing between you and your family can be repaired. Marcus?"

I turn to him, searching his eyes to gauge how he feels. He looks thoughtful, and he doesn't say anything for a long time.

But then, finally, he nods.

"All right," he says. "Daisy - you have one chance to make this right. Let's see what we can do."