This Poison Heart Page 51

“What burden?” I asked. Suddenly everything seemed brighter, louder. I was aware of the rattle of hot water pipes and the hum of the electricity powering the lights in the display cases. Fear had dialed my senses to ten.

Marie took a few steps toward me. “You found the apothecary and the garden. I’m sure you’ve seen what lies behind those high walls.”

“The plants to stock the apothecary?” My voice sounded small, hollow.

“That’s part of it but . . .” She stared at me, her eyes searching, and finally finding something that seemed to trouble her deeply. She moved closer—slowly and deliberately, the way she had when she’d come to my house. She narrowed her gaze, her brown eyes glinting in the dim light. “They were keeping an unfathomable secret.”

CHAPTER 18

I had the strongest urge to leave—No, not leave. Run.

“I’m sorry,” Marie said. “Please. Please don’t go.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I’m not trying to pressure you into giving me any information—”

“I don’t even have any information,” I said. “I—I haven’t opened the door.”

Her sigh was heavy with relief. “Good. Don’t open it.”

“Why? What’s behind it?” I inched closer to the door.

“I don’t know exactly.” Her shoulders rolled forward as she hugged herself around the middle. She drew a long breath. “Circe looked after a very rare, very poisonous plant. The only reason I know that much is because of—” She stopped short. Pain twisted her beautiful features. “Because of Astraea. She was a relative of yours and my best friend in the whole world, like a sister.”

Some of the fear had ebbed but I kept the door in my line of sight. “What did she say about the plant?”

Marie gazed off to the side like she was recalling a distant memory. “She told me it was the center of her world, that it consumed her waking days and even her dreams. Once, she told me she would have given her life to keep it safe, and I laughed.” She looked absolutely disgusted with herself, shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, tears threatened to spill over. “She didn’t talk to me for six months.”

“Why?” I asked. “There are a lot of poisonous plants in the garden. At least a dozen of them are deadly.”

“It’s nothing like those other plants. It couldn’t be, or they wouldn’t have kept it locked away.” Her tone darkened. “And if that’s true, and I have every reason to think it is, then you should never open it. Never even speak about it. Ever.”

“Where’s Astraea now?” I asked. “Do you think she knows I’m here? Why isn’t she taking care of the house and the garden?”

Marie’s face grew tight. “Astraea died a long time ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said. I shook my head, frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.

“It’s like everybody who could give me any real answers is gone. That leaves me in a weird place if I’m tryna figure things out.” As I went over this growing list of people who’d passed away and where that left me, something occurred to me. “How did Astraea die?”

Marie glanced at me, hesitating.

“My birth mother died, too. So did Circe and Astraea. Now that I think about it, I’m worried.” What was plaguing the Colchis family line to leave me the last one standing? The question unsettled me.

“Cause of death is tricky when you’re a Colchis,” Marie said.

I raised an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me what that’s supposed to mean?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It means that if I walked into the records room at the county courthouse and asked for a copy of the coroner’s report for Astraea or even Selene, I promise you there’d be an issue. It’s been moved, lost, caught on fire in a back room somewhere . . .”

“You don’t know how any of them died?” I asked.

Marie shook her head. “No. I asked Circe about Astraea, but even she couldn’t give me any real answers. For a long time, I thought it was another secret, something else she’d sworn to keep private, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe she didn’t know what happened to her—or maybe she did, but didn’t want to tell me.”

“What about the coroner?” I asked. “This is a pretty small town. Maybe you could get the information directly from them?”

“This is a small place. So small that our medical examiner’s office and our funeral home have been run by the same family for years. I actually think that’s illegal, but on top of that, the guy in charge now is an asshole. And like I said, the records always happen to be unavailable or misplaced.”

“I understand what it’s like to have questions and feel like you can’t get a straight answer,” I said. “That’s how it’s been for me ever since I got here.”

Marie bristled. “Astraea was my friend and for somebody like me, real friends are hard to come by. If I knew what happened to her, maybe it’d make me feel less—I don’t know, less lost.”

My fear had ebbed completely, and I gently put my hand on Marie’s arm. She seemed vulnerable, unsure of what to do or say next. “I get it. Maybe I can help. Do you know how I can get ahold of the medical examiner?”

She pulled out her phone and a few seconds later, I had a text from her.

“That’s his information. I won’t get my hopes up, and you shouldn’t either.”

“We’ll see. Can’t hurt to ask,” I said. “Anyway, how’s Alec?”

“Alive,” she said.

I waited for her to elaborate and choked back a nervous laugh when I realized that the little ring in her voice sounded like disappointment.

“He’s upstairs,” she said quickly, noticing my confusion. “He’ll probably be in county lockup soon for trespassing on your property.” She looked disgusted.

“I already talked to my parents about that. Nobody wants him locked up. I’d be worried if my grandpa—”

Marie’s eyes widened for a split second. I stared at her, trying to decide how I was going to say what I was thinking without sounding rude. “You’re not telling me the whole truth about who he is to you. I don’t know why, but after everything you just said about your friend and how you hate being kept in the dark—”

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