Sally’s face was grave. “It’s entirely possible.”
Brinley stared at her, horrified.
“After all,” Sally continued, “Fairfax saw you get into Mr. Fowler’s car with his own eyes. Any trust he showed you was likely just for show.”
Seeing is believing, and what Fairfax had witnessed would undoubtedly sow seeds of doubt. His reassurance was probably just a façade while those seeds grew into a forest of suspicion in his mind.
Brinley’s own face grew pale. “Then what do we do?”
If Fairfax was suspicious and started digging, he might uncover that incident. If he found out about that, she would be completely finished. The thought made her heart seize in her chest.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Sally said bluntly.
“What do you mean, nothing?” Brinley cried, her voice rising in panic. “Have you forgotten why my mother sent you to me? This is a matter of life and death!”
All her pent-up fear and frustration turned on Sally once again.
Sally’s expression turned cold. “If Fairfax is truly investigating you two, then yes, there is nothing we can do.”
“You—”
“And from what I gather, your mother is still dealing with her own troubles in Yoran Country. She can't help you,” Sally cut in.
“It’s all that bitch Starla’s fault!” Brinley hissed, her voice filled with venom.
She had never felt so powerless in her life. Starla used to be so weak, someone anyone in the Yelchin family could push around. And now… now, no one could touch her.
The thought made Brinley’s lungs burn with hatred. She wanted to kill Starla!
“There’s no use blaming anyone now,” Sally said, her tone firm. “The most important thing is to survive.”
“Survive?” The word hung in the air. Brinley looked at Sally in disbelief. Had she really fallen so far? Had her existence become a simple matter of survival?

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