Chapter 5: The Thing She Used Against Verity
The call came at half past two.
Not from Jessamine.
From Verity.
Her voice when I picked up was the voice of someone trying very hard not to come apart.
"She rang me," Verity said.
"Jessamine rang me an hour ago."
I sat down.
"What did she say?"
"She said—" A breath.
A long one.
"She said she's been worried about me for months.
That she's noticed things.
That I've seemed unstable and that the way I reacted at the party — she said I stood there and just let you h*t her, that I didn't even try to stop it, that she thinks there might be something wrong with me." Verity's voice cracked on the last word and then steadied again.
"She said she's mentioned it to Emory.
That they've both been talking about how I handle stress."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"And then she said that Daniel has noticed it too."
Everything in me went very still.
"She said Daniel told her he's been concerned about whether I'm—" Verity stopped.
She couldn't finish it.
"Verity.
Listen to me."
"She said he confides in her because he doesn't want to worry me." Her voice broke properly now.
"Mum, she said Daniel talks to her about me.
About their worries.
About me."
There it was.
Not random jealousy.
Not a moment of cruelty at a party.
A system.
A long, slow, careful dismantling — months of little comments, little digs, little jokes, all of it building toward this: the moment when Verity would begin to doubt not Jessamine, not Daniel, but herself.
"Verity, stop." My voice came out firmer than I expected.
"I need you to listen to me very carefully.
Everything she just said to you is a lie designed to make you feel like you can't trust your own mind.
Do you hear me?"
"But what if—"
"No." I stood up from the chair.
"There is no *what if*.
Jessamine is doing this because she is frightened.
She came to my house this morning to try to get me to apologize and go quiet, and I didn't, and now she is coming after you because you are the part of this she thinks she can still control."
A long silence.
"Why would Daniel—"
"I don't know yet what Daniel knows or doesn't know.
But I know that a woman who deliberately destroys your engagement party and then sends her husband to talk you out of believing a video of herself doing it does not get to tell you what your own fiancé thinks of you." I stopped.
"Has Daniel said anything like this to you?
Himself, in his own words?"
"No."
"Then she is lying."
Verity was quiet for a moment.
I could hear her breathing slowly, steadying.
"She also said," Verity began carefully, "that if you share that video publicly or try to make trouble for her, she'll make sure everyone knows that I have a history of emotional instability.
That she has texts from Daniel to prove it."
My stomach turned.
"Texts."
"She said she has texts where he's talked to her about how I get when I'm overwhelmed."
I sat back down.
Whatever calm I had felt that morning when Jessamine left was gone now.
Because threatening me with a solicitor was one thing.
Coming for Verity's sanity and her engagement was something else.
"Did she say anything else?"
"She said to tell you that the offer expires at five." Verity's voice was flat now.
Hollowed out.
"And that if you don't apologize, she'll send those texts to everyone at the party."
I looked at the clock on the kitchen wall.
Two hours and twenty minutes.
"Verity," I said.
"I need you to do one thing for me."
"What?"
"Call Daniel.
Right now, after we hang up.
Don't mention Jessamine.
Just tell him what you're feeling and let him talk."
"Why?"
"Because I need to know whose side of this story is true." I paused.
"And you deserve to hear it from him."
Silence.
"Okay," she said.
"And Verity — whatever he says, call me back immediately."
She hung up.
I set the phone on the table and pressed both hands flat against the surface.
May you like
Jessamine had come into that conservatory with a plan.
And the fountain had only been the first part of it.
