Page 104 of The Viper
“I’m fine.” The lie came out hollow. “Where’s Franklin?”
“On the phone with the studio. And the police. He?—”
Before she could finish, someone shouted from the porch. “She’s here!”
And then I saw her.
Hannah.
She stepped into the doorway like she didn’t belong to the same world we did anymore—pale, trembling, her hair windblown. She still wore the clothes Meghan had given her at Dominion Hall that morning, and her eyes—those same green eyes as mine—looked wild, too bright, like she hadn’t blinked in hours.
“I was running late,” she said, her voice breaking. “Is everyone okay?”
For a second, all I could feel was relief. My body moved before my brain caught up. I crossed the room, grabbed her hands, pulled her in. She was cold, despite the warm weather.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered. “You should be at Dominion Hall.”
I heard the words as they came out of my mouth. Ironic.
“I couldn’t.”
There was something brittle in her tone, something off.
“Come on.” I led her through the narrow hallway, away from the noise, toward the green room—a quiet space where she could breathe. Except I wasn’t sure who I was trying to calm anymore—her or me.
She sank onto the small sofa, hands twisting in her lap. “I just needed to see you,” she said. “To know you were okay.”
“I’m fine.” Another lie. “You should’ve stayed away. Or at least, called first. There’s security everywhere.”
“I did call,” she said softly. “You didn’t answer.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I had no knowledge of that. My phone was probably still somewhere in the chaos of the set.
“Listen,” I started, sitting across from her. “Something happened. Someone left a message for me.”
Hannah flinched. “A message?”
I nodded. “A note. A real rose. It said I should’ve stayed at Dominion Hall.”
Her breath caught audibly, and I saw it—the flicker of panic she tried to hide.
My pulse quickened. “Do you know what that means?”
“No.” Too fast.
“Hannah.” I leaned forward. “If you know something—anything—you have to tell me. Please. This isn’t just about me anymore. A staffer was hurt. Someone could’ve been killed.”
She shook her head, eyes darting toward the window. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand!” My voice rose, sharp, desperate. “I heard you this morning, Hannah. On the phone. You said it’s gone too far. That someone’s going to get hurt.”
Her head snapped toward me. “You were listening?”
“I didn’t mean to,” I said quickly. “But I heard enough to know you’re hiding something.”
She stood up, her shoulders shaking. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Then tell me the truth,” I said, standing, too. “Who were you talking to?”
