Page 40 of The Devil's Waltz

My eyes flit around the room. I haven’t been here in years, but Mom’s office is the same bright, open space, bland and not personalized whatsoever. Maybe that’s how she prefers it, maybe she doesn’t want any personality in her workspace. Knowing her, she probably thinks that would show weakness. God forbid her co-workers know anything about her life aside from her disappointment of a daughter quitting the team.

I can’t stay much longer. The more time I spend here, the more cynical my thoughts become. It’s almost like a reflex. Learned over time, I’m sure, but automatic, nonetheless.

“I saw Noah on my way up,” I say when she sits beside me, because I’m not sure how else to start the conversation.

“It’s been some time since you’ve seen him,” she comments.

“Yeah,” I mutter, “it was a real treat.”

She frowns at the bite in my voice. “He’s under a lot of pressure these days, Camille. A lot of responsibility falls on his shoulders around here and at Ballard.”

I shrug, glancing around her fancy-pants office. “Good for him. He’s still an asshole.”

Mom sighs. “I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”

“It’s fine.”No, it’s not. I just want her to get to the point of why I’m here. “What’s up, Mom?”

When she smiles at me, my stomach drops, and I can’t help thinking there’s something seriously wrong with that.

She reaches for an envelope sitting on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, holding it out to me.

I arch a brow at her, hesitantly taking it. I flip it over, but there’s nothing on the outside. “What is this?”

“Open it,” she instructs, trying to hide a smile.

I tear the end off, dropping it onto the coffee table, and pull out the paper that’s inside. Correction—I pull out thecheckthat’s inside. My eyes scan it frantically, reading it over and over, certain that it’s some sort of joke. The check is payable to…me—in the amount of ten thousand dollars.

“Cami—”

“What is this?” My voice cracks as my gaze flies to hers.

“It’s for school.”

I look back at the check. It’s not one of her personal checks. In the top left corner, it has the company name the government uses to hide the hunter organization. My stomach twists into painful knots, and I’m somewhat worried I’m going to be sick. Part of me hopes I vomit all over her couch.

“This isn’t your money,” I say in a low voice, setting the check on the coffee table and folding my hands in my lap so she can’t see how badly they’re shaking.

“No,” she says, pressing her lips together. “Consider it a signing bonus. With an additional check applied to your tuition each semester and reimbursement for the last two years of school as well.”

Tears burn my eyes and the back of my throat goes dry. “Each semester I train,” I say through my teeth.

“Camille, please. Just think—”

“Why are you doing this?” I demand, the tears gathering in my eyes making my vision blurry.

She frowns. “Because I truly believe you’ll change your mind.”

“Do you think I’ll be happy about it if I do?” I shake my head. “Does that even matter?”

“If you accept our offer, the company will pay your full tuition. We are offering you the best of both worlds. Isn’t that what you want?”

What I want.

All I want is for her and Dad to genuinely accept the life I’m building for myself and not keep trying to force me into one that is guaranteed to make me miserable.

I bite my tongue, stopping myself from sharing the last conversation I had with Danielle. The one where I promised her I’d get out of the life our mom is actively attempting to lure me back into. I’m not entirely sure what keeps me from telling her. Maybe I’m worried she won’t believe me, or that she will and it’ll tarnish the memory she has of Danielle. As much as I resent Mom for being so manipulative, I can’t take that chance.

I lick the dryness from my lips and wipe my cheeks. “This is what you were talking to Dad about?”

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