The Wallflower Effect

Chapter 18: War Paint.

I drove home alone, needing distance from everything. I operated on autopilot, cruising home slowly based on my memory. I was barely looking at the road. In my defense, I was awfully distracted. Wrapping my head around the concept of someone I trusted being a killer wasn't something I was happy to do. I comforted myself, saying that Morgan was crazy, that she didn't know what she was talking about. She had no proof. There was no reason behind her crackpot theory. Okay, that wasn't quite true. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself something had felt off about this whole thing. Besides the obvious.

I was the last person to say that Morgan Steel of all people had a point, but she did. The more I thought about it, the more paranoid I became. It could only be so many people. I thought about things people had done, odd reactions I'd shrugged off, suspicions I'd tossed away. Lots of clues pointed to lots of different people. Who was a monster? Which person in my inner circle had blood on their hands? Maybe I was being an idiot, and it was just some random person.

Absentmindedly, I turned onto my street.

I dismissed the idea of it being a total stranger. The notes had been directed at me, I had been mentioned by name. It couldn't have been someone I didn't know of at all. It had to be someone who had some degree of interaction with me. Either way, I would know everything by Midnight today. I shivered at the thought.

I pulled up into the driveway, deftly pulling out the keys and setting them onto the spotless granite counter. To my surprise, my parents- both of them, were on the couch. I blinked, shocked at seeing them home before three am or whatever ungodly hour they ended their shifts at. Together, no less.

"Hi, sweetheart." My mother smiled at me gently, from my father's arms. Honey wagged her tail at their feet. I had rarely if ever seen them be very affectionate to each other. Two headstrong, opinionated doctors? Saying they didn't have the warmest of marriages was a gross understatement. Add in the fact that my mother had used a pet name with me, and I was beginning to wonder if I had slipped into an alternate universe.

"How are you doing?" My father asked, stroking my mother's perfectly styled blonde hair. The same hair I had.  I looked between them, not being able to quell my suspicion at their behavior. Upon seeing me, honey came up to me and sat at my feet where I distractedly petted her before dealing with my parents.

"I haven't seen both of you in days. In fact, you were never at any of my dance recitals, plays, or anything else for that matter. The few times I have seen either of you when you were awake, it's been when you were here to sleep before getting back to your precious clinic, and you sure haven't been together when I have. Now you've finally decided to be present in my life, and I get a 'hi sweetheart,' and 'how are you doing?'" I fumed icily.

They both looked stricken, but I wasn't in the mood for hidden agendas today. I may have layed in on thick, but they hadn't earned much daughterly adoration from me.

"That isn't fair-" My dad started.

"No, you're right, it isn't." I interrupted rudely. Wow, I was on a roll today.

"Officer Hale called us." My mother informed me quietly. I froze. That explained it. I decided on sitting down, figuring wasn't going to be over in five minutes.

"What did he say?" I folded my arms defensively, figuring they knew the basics from their pitying looks. 

"He told us how he had parents that were both lawyers, and when he broke his arm playing football, he didn't have anyone waiting for him in the recovery room. Frankly, he gave us a lecture. Your mother and I knew something had to be going on, but we didn't know the full story till he called us this morning. I am so sorry, Zoey." My father apologized reverently, with tears in his eyes. My mother didn't look any more composed than he did.