I stood frozen in the pouring rain, the crystal blade hidden in my sleeve, my hand hovering before Natalie's door. The fury that had propelled me here suddenly gave way to a paralyzing revelation.
What was I doing?
My daughter's killer deserved to pay, but this—becoming a murderer myself—wouldn't bring Violet back. The weight of that truth crashed over me with more force than the thunderstorm raging around me.
Before I could make a decision, headlights swept across the driveway. I ducked behind a large decorative planter, heart hammering against my ribs. Through the curtain of rain, I watched as a sleek black car pulled up.
Julian's car.
The engine cut off, and he emerged, rushing through the downpour toward Natalie's front door. He didn't have an umbrella, and within seconds his expensive suit was soaked through. The door opened before he could knock.
