Hazel's POV
The cool evening air hit my face as I stepped out of the restaurant. My heart hammered against my ribs in a strange mix of anxiety and grim satisfaction. Inside, waiters were crowding around Gloria's slumped form. I knew she would be fine—eventually. Whatever she had slipped into my drink was likely meant to incapacitate, not harm. That was the Everett way—underhanded but calculated.
I took several deep breaths to steady myself. The expression on Gloria's face when she realized what had happened—that perfect moment of horrified understanding—would stay with me for a long time. It felt like justice, seeing her taste her own medicine.
Yet something twisted in my stomach. A sliver of guilt? Perhaps. Despite everything the Everetts had done to me, I wasn't like them. I didn't take pleasure in others' suffering.
My phone vibrated in my purse. Cherry's name flashed on the screen.
"Did it work?" she asked immediately.
