There’s a flower Uncle J keeps in the back of his house. Just one. He waters it every morning like it’s the most important thing in his garden. I remember asking him once why he only planted that single flower. He told me it wasn’t just any flower — it was dangerous. Deadly. He called it wolfsbane, and said it could stop a person’s heart if it was used the wrong way.
I’ve spent the whole night thinking about how to get rid of Zander’s aunt without drawing attention to myself, turning over every possibility in my mind, and finding flaws in all of them. Nothing felt safe enough. Nothing felt clean.
I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, and I remembered Uncle J’s garden—that lonely flower. And suddenly, the answer felt obvious.
That was the only way I could do it without getting caught.
An
