Page 84 of Lavender Lake
“Amber,” Cas repeated. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
I shrugged, hoping he’d drop it.
“Wait,” Cas said, looking at me. “She’s the one, right?”
“The one what?” Declan asked.
“The one who made Hadley cry, so Salem put hair removal cream in her face wash,” Cas said, looking at me again.
The table fell silent.
“You’re the reason?” Gracie said with surprise. “You’re the reason Amber didn’t have eyebrows in her yearbook photo?”
“I plead the fifth,” I muttered, glaring at Cas.
“What?” he demanded.
“I didn’t know,” Hadley voiced. “No one knew who did it. Or why.”
Embarrassment heated the back of my neck. “She made you cry. So, I got even.”
“She made Hadley cry?” Declan demanded.
“It was a long time ago,” Hadley said, patting his arm.
“What did she say?” Gracie asked.
“It was about the Huckleberry Pageant,” I said.
“Thewhat?” Bowman asked.
“The Huckleberry Pageant. It’s a mother-daughter thing. And the year that Amber entered with her mom, she said?—”
“She said we’d never be able to enter, let alone win, because we didn’t have a mom anymore,” Hadley said, her face stricken.
She looked just like she’d looked years ago when Amber had said the worst thing in the world.
“God, she really is the nastiest human being.” Gracie shook her head.
“I had no idea you were behind that prank,” Hadley said to me.
I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t punch her in the eye,” Cole said. “That seems more your style.”
I grinned at him. “Poison is a woman’s weapon.”
Cole raised his eyebrows. “Duly noted.”
“So not only is there a yearbook photo of Amber with penciled in eyebrows and a few missing eyelashes, but the bitch lost the pageant, too,” I said with a smirk.
“How did you know about the story?” Declan asked Cas.
“We exchanged war stories,” Cas said.
“Times of vigilante justice,” I clarified.
“Let’s raise a glass to Salem,” Declan said. “Our hair-trigger defender.”
