The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 20

Victoria might have ignored her own calls out of anger, but she could hardly avoid picking up when Violet rang.

When Gwyneth finally heard her father say that her mom was all right, the worry that had weighed on her heart for days at last lifted; she calmed down, and the tears that had come so easily no longer threatened to spill at every little thing.

Her sadness had lingered until Mr. McNeil told her that Victoria wasn't dead. The truth was, she cared about her mom more than she wanted to admit. But as soon as McNeil suggested she call Victoria, her mood soured again.

Dad had been home with Violet, everything was fine, and then, early this morning, he'd left. Violet told her the police called and said Mom was dead, which could only mean one thing-

Mom was up to her old tricks, trying to lure Dad back.

Gwyneth didn't agree to call right away. Instead, she asked sullenly, "Dad, are you at home now?"

"No, I'm not."

Mom was definitely hiding somewhere.

mother was far too cunning; Gwyneth was sure this was just some test to see

still sick and no one really in charge, she got to do whatever she wanted. She could eat when she liked, sleep when she pleased, and spend all day playing games. Being late for school-or

contact her mom. If she did, Mom would probably make her go back to school, and her

blood again like that night, I'll be scared to death. Oh no, my smartwatch is running out of battery. Gotta

"Gwyn-"

finish, her watch had already powered

***

Evermore City

off to. I'm giving you twenty-four hours

her car, and the police had even released her ID number to the press. If they kept digging, sooner or later the whole world would

Langford family," Madonna Nelson's voice droned from the phone, her number and name— unchanged for years-lighting up Victoria's screen. "Back then, McNeil and Violet were practically engaged. You were the one who agreed to keep your marriage a secret after the wedding. Now you've stirred up this mess-are you trying to ruin our

was slow and measured, with an air of superiority that brooked no argument-each