I enter the kitchen to find Lola doubled over, clutching her stomach, green-tinged cheeks filled with air. Sweat shimmers on her forehead, pain evident in her posture.
“Lola, what’s wrong?” I ask, frantic as my feet drag me to her. I help hold her up, rubbing her back.
“She needs a goddamn exorcism at this point,” Mayte mutters under her breath before clarifying, as if just how screwed we are wasn’t clear enough. “Herlimpiaresult is not good, Ry,” Mayte tells me, and I find myself staring at the clear glass on the counter, as if I have any idea what this rotten-looking egg could be telling us. “Go have a seat in the living room. We’ll join you when we’ve disposed of the egg appropriately.”
“Would it be alright if I took Lola to dispose of it off theproperty real quick, or would that be disrespectful?” I ask, desperate to support Lola in any way I can.
“That's fine, Ryder. We were probably just going to flush it, but?—”
Bexaida cuts Mayte off, “No, we werenot!We aren't keeping this energy in Bee’s home!”
Lola's shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry,” she whines, her voice small and pained. It breaks my heart. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen. I would never intentionally bring you all into harm’s way.” She sags against me.
“You are not responsible for the actions of others, Lola. The good news is, while yourlimpiarevealed gossip, someone keeping a close eye on you, karmic cords you need to cut, a physical ailment, which you already knew about, the tiny bubbles are a sign thelimpiacleansed you of those things. The big concern now is the, well—” Mayte’s eyes dart away, discomfort twisting her face as she scratches her arm.
“The figure,” Lola finishes, and I swear, everyone who wasn’t in that kitchen with them has their head on a swivel.
“There was a human figure in the egg yolk when Lola started to feel sick. And shortly after, there weretwo,” Bexaida informs us.
Goosebumps litter my skin, bile climbing up my throat. Ibecome acutely aware of why Lola would have a weak stomach after her experience.
“How do we get rid of them? What’s the next step?” my mom asks, leaning into the conversation with her elbows planted on her knees, wild blue eyes frantic for an answer.
“A lot of the bad energy was disposed of with the egg, but if there are two people coming after Lola, we have to get to the bottom of it. We need to confront the problem, break ties, and make sure they’re not able to spiritually bully her anymore,” José answers.
“What if we hire a private investigator? We have messages from these people. Maybe there’s someone who can confirm it’s Lemmon behind all this?” Dad suggests.
“I’m not totally convinced it even is Lemmon, at least, notjusther,” Lola admits, rubbing her temples.
“Whoever it is, we’ll figure it out, darlin’,” I assure her, squeezing her thigh.
“That’s actually what I was looking into the other day. I have a buddy of mine from the Marines who can track anyone. He flies back to the States on Sunday and said he can get on it then,” Zeke explains.
“Any ideas for what we should do in the meantime?”
“Have you swept your home for cameras or recording devices of any kind?” Zeke asks, and trepidation mingles with the ever-growing list of uncomfortable emotions I’m living with.
“No. As stupid as it is, I hadn’t thought about it.”Veryfucking stupid of me, given the circumstances.
“I need to grab a few things from my place, but I can head over after and check things out to be safe,” he says, and we spend the next hour going through possibilities for who the second person might be, coming up mostly empty.
“What about those dumb girls always hanging around Lemmon?” Mom muses.
Mayte shakes her head. “Unlikely. Judging by the way they avoided being seen with her at the barn fire the other day, it seems they’ve cut ties.”
“And they’d probably get her caught if they were involved,” Dad tells her.
Zeke butts in, stunning us into silence. “Neither of those women is dumb, nor are they girls. Wendy is a pre-school teacher with a sick mom and a special needs child she’s fighting to gain full custody of from her abusive ex, but since she doesn’t have the budget to afford a home care nurse for her mother, it’s not going well. Dana Sue runs a non-profit and can barely afford to feed the stray cats she cares for, let alone fundher little brother’s rehab.” His gaze sweeps over each of us. “They’regoodpeople living with unfortunate circumstances. You can’t blame them for accepting Lemmon’s money.”
“So shedoespay them to be her friends?” Lola asks.
Zeke shakes his head. “No, she just helps fund Wendy’s mom’s home health aide and Dana Sue’s non-profit, I guess so she doesn’t have to be totally alone. It started after her dad cut ties with her.”
I can’t utter a word before Mayte flashes Zeke a smirk. “Well, excuse me, little Lockhart. When didyoubecome the town crier?”
“I’m not crying about anything, you brat,” he says with a chuckle that warms me to my bones in the same second it acts as a shock to my system. “Idohave a life outside of this ranch. It may not be extravagant, but it’s wholesome. I met both of them while volunteering at Dana Sue’s non-profit a couple years back.”
Zeke’s on a roll, stunning me into silence yet again.
