tricks of time ― grayson hawthorne [the inheritance games]

036. A DEADLY ANSWER

My hands find Grayson's under the table. I'm gripping his hand so hard I feel like I'm cutting off his circulation, but he doesn't seem to care. I can barely find Mallory, Ms. Laughlin, or Mr. Laughlin's eyes. The tensions that are rising in the room feels so strong that I could cut through it with a knife if I had one.

"No," she says, placing a skinny hand on her heart. "I don't believe you. No. That is not true." Her eyes dart around the table, from Nan, to Xander, to Leslie. "For God's sake, I don't believe you. Give me that sheet," she says, and she tries to grab it from Alisa.

Alisa hands me the paper. And when she does, I start panicking, because I realize that she's telling me that I have to do the rest of this on my own. I take a deep breath, and flip the paper. It's printed big enough that everyone can see.

"You don't believe me?" I ask her. My eyes scan the table, only to find that everyone is scanning the paper too.

And then, it's like a domino effect has occurred. One by one, everyone— just like Alisa, freezes in their seat. After what seems like an eternity, someone finally talks. That someone, is Xander. "I don't believe it," he says in a hoarse whisper.

Leslie's hands are covering her mouth, and Nash, who is next to her, is doing his best to calm her. But by the look on his face, anyone could tell that he too, was in shock.

Ms. Laughlin and her husband, Andrew, are both shaking their heads, and it's almost freaky, seeing how synchronized they are.

"What the hell is this, Mallory?" Her father grits out.

"That," she says, jabbing her finger roughly at the paper, "is a fake. I mean, look at the girl. Look at the mess she has caused since arriving here. Who's to say this isn't some other drama-starter she's cooked up?"

No one on the table says a word, except for a very familiar voice. "I agree," Celeste says. "In the few weeks I've been here...I must say, I'm quite surprised with you, Leah."

"Fucking hell," Oren says under his breath, but it's loud enough for everyone to hear. "Mallory— what the hell is the matter with you? I—" He drags a hand down his face.

"John," she says sympathetically. "Don't tell me that you believe her." She looks around the table, and I watch as her face pales. "Oh my God. You all believe her. Oh my God."

She turns to her father, and she gasps, covering her mouth and pushing her chair back. "Oh my God!" she cries. "Dad— Dad, please. You have to believe me, Dad, please." She's shaking his shoulders. "Dad, please. Please, look at me, and tell me that you believe that she is NOT my daughter!"

Yet he can't even look at her. I watch at the slight light in her eyes dim...till there is nothing there at all. She looks so betrayed. By all of us.

"Admit everything now," I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Admit it all now," I repeat, more confident this time. "Tell me the truth and I swear this won't be a big deal."

"This is a big deal!" Oren practically jumps out of his chair. "Of course this is a big deal!" He turns to Mallory Laughlin. "M, admit everything now. Admit everything now so I don't throw you out of this goddamn house!"

She cowers back, and I swear, she almost whimpers. "I didn't do anything, I swear." Silent tears are streaming down her face. If she's acting, she's acting well, because I almost feel bad for her.

"Don't lie," Oren grits out.

"Fine!" She exclaims. "Fine!" The tremors in her voice are gone and suddenly, her eyes are dry. I scoff.