Perfect Parents: An utterly addictive psychological thriller packed with shocking twists by L.G. Davis

Author:L.G. Davis [Davis, L.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803146706
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-08-18T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

PRESENT

When I returned to the guesthouse after my yoga class, Marcia caught me crying and insisted on knowing what was wrong. So I caved and told her it’s my birthday, and knowing that my twin sister is not here to celebrate it with me breaks my heart.

I didn’t tell her how Rachel’s death happened and my role in it, of course. Seeing me so upset, she immediately insisted I dine with them, not wanting me to be alone. I accepted only when she promised not to make a big deal out of my birthday. I don’t want any singing or cake, because I don’t deserve to be celebrated.

I wouldn’t have come if I’d known Agnes was going to be joining us, too.

The way she’s staring at me now, almost unblinkingly, sets my teeth on edge. I just know that when she gets the chance, she’ll try again to dissuade me from giving the baby to Marcia and Travis, and I already feel exhausted even before the conversation.

Feeling both uncomfortable and emotional, I glance down at the dry steak on my plate, wishing I were home and in my bed. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Mom, how have you been at the hotel?” Marcia asks in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I hope you’re allowing them to pamper you.”

Even though she’s smiling, Marcia looks tired and somewhat pale, as if she’s also having a low day. It took her twenty minutes to come downstairs after we were seated, her eyes drowsy from a late-afternoon nap.

Agnes takes a drink of wine and picks up her knife and fork. “Let’s just say, I’m much more appreciated over there than in this place.”

“Come on, Mom,” Marcia says. “Don’t say that. That’s not fair.”

Agnes slices through her meat with such force that the knife scrapes the glamorous gold and white porcelain plate. “What do you want me to say, darling? You kicked me out of my own home, and you expect everything to be hunky-dory?”

As if in slow motion, Marcia’s shoulders collapse, then she swallows her food and says, “We didn’t kick you out, Mom. We only wanted to do what’s right, considering the circumstances. And, if I remember correctly, you were quite happy to agree to the arrangement.”

Agnes’s upper lip curls upward and her nostrils flare. “That’s because I don’t approve of what you’re doing. That baby—”

Travis drops his cutlery onto the plate and glares at his mother-in-law. “This is not the place, Agnes. You’re going too far.”

“You don’t have the right to silence me,” Agnes replies. “I have the right to say whatever I want in my own home. You impregnated a stranger and you expect me to be okay with it? That won’t happen.”

“Grace is our surrogate,” Marcia shoots back, her hands clasped together on the table, veins showing through her translucent skin. “Whether you like it or not, the baby growing inside Grace is my child and your grandchild.”

“You know that’s not true, darling. Whether you like it or not, it will never be your child either.

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