Without missing a beat, she dialed my number and handed me the phone. “Stay on the line. You’re going to record everything.”
Before I could respond, Hazel stormed downstairs. I watched, my pulse racing, the phone pressed tightly to my ear. Her footsteps were deliberate, each one echoing in the now quiet house.
Sebastian and Zoey froze as she entered the room. Sebastian pulled back from Zoey like a guilty teenager caught sneaking out after curfew, his face turning several shades paler.
“Hazel?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?”
Hazel’s voice was cold, every word coated in controlled anger. “What am I doing here? No, Sebastian. The better question is, what are YOU doing?”
Zoey’s eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She opened her mouth, probably to start spewing excuses, but Hazel cut her off.
