"Your daughter is dead," Tim said. "That's the fuck that's going on."
The silence that followed was instant.
"Shot by your partner-in-crime, Sharona," Tim added casually. "But then, it shouldn't hurt too much, right? I heard you have backups."
"What? What? Sylvia?"
"See ya later." Tim said, turned and followed Winn and Anna, leaving Tom to stew in his own poisoned legacy.
Tom sat heavily on the stairs. Sylvia… dead? No. Impossible. She was his daughter.
******
The Orchard mansion was quiet, peaceful.
Ivy sat by the bed, watching over Anna's sleeping form. The older woman's chest rose and fell in slow, medicated breaths. Ivy had tucked the blanket up to her shoulders, smoothing her hair back every few minutes, trying to give comfort where there was none to give.
Her own eyes were red-rimmed, and exhaustion clung to her shoulders.
The door opened.
She looked up slowly.
Winn stood in the doorway.
