Chapter 7
About ten minutes later, Zoe's phone buzzed. A message from Lillian popped up. [Zoe, we have guests. Can you come down and help pour some coffee?]
She even added a smiling emoji at the end.
Zoe changed into a long-sleeved shirt and buttoned it all the way up, hiding the wound on her neck. Then she went downstairs.
There were seven or eight people in the living room, all friends of Stanley's. She recognized a few faces, but some of them were strangers.
They lounged across the sofas, legs crossed, drinks in hand, talking and laughing like they owned the place.
When Zoe walked in, everyone just sat there, not even bothering to say hi.
She walked over to the coffee table. Lillian handed her the coffee pot, and Zoe began pouring.
She moved from one person to the next, handing out cups.
When she reached Marty, he didn't take his.
Instead, his eyes slid slowly over her, from head to toe. The look made her spine go cold.
"Zoe, you're back." He set his glass of liquor on the table, leaned back into the sofa, and crossed his legs.
He smiled widely. "It's been a year. You've lost some weight. But you don't look too bad. Guess the food at Tranquil Grace Academy wasn't terrible, huh?"
Someone nearby snickered.
Stanley sat off to the side in an armchair, a cigarette between his fingers. He said nothing.
Marty glanced at him, then turned back to Zoe, his eyes locked on her. "You remember that night a year ago, right?"
His voice was just loud enough for everyone in the room to catch every word. "At the hotel. You called me and said you were drunk and needed a ride. Since you were drunk, I should take care of you, right? But the second I walked into the room—"
He threw his hands up in mock disbelief. "You stripped off your own clothes and threw yourself at me."
The room shifted. A few people exchanged looks. Some lowered their heads, trying to hide their laughter. Others lifted their glasses to their lips, covering their expressions.
Lillian sat beside Stanley, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "Marty, don't," she said softly. "That's all in the past."
Her voice was soothing, but she didn't lower her voice. Every word still carried across the room.
Marty burst out laughing. "Lillian, you're too kind. If it were me, I'd have divorced a shameless woman like that a long time ago."
He glanced at Stanley again.
Stanley sat there, smoke swirling around his face, masking his eyes.
He said nothing, but there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
It was subtle. But Zoe saw it.
She stood by the coffee table, still holding the pot.
The spout hovered over a cup that was already full. Coffee spilled over the rim, running down the side and pooling onto the table, but she didn't stop.
Marty leaned forward slightly. "Zoe, say something. Did you stay at Tranquil Grace Academy so long that you forgot how to talk?"
Everyone burst out laughing again, the sound echoing loudly in the room.
When the laughter died down, Marty grabbed a nearby bottle and poured himself a full glass of whiskey.
The amber liquid swirled in the crystal glass.
He slid the glass across the table toward Zoe. "Come on, Zoe. I haven't seen you in a year. Pour me a drink and apologize."
He leaned back again, legs crossed, chin tipped up in quiet arrogance.
"Kneel," he added. "Then pour it."
The room fell silent. The laughter vanished. People glanced at each other, unsure.
Lillian covered her mouth. "Marty, that's too much," she whispered.
But her hand never left Stanley's arm.
Stanley still didn't say a word.
Ash dropped from his cigarette onto his pants, and he didn't brush it away.
Zoe looked down at the glass, then slowly set the coffee pot aside.
She knelt. Her knees hit the floor with a dull thud.
Everyone saw it. No one said a word.
Zoe knelt on the floor, reaching out to grab the bottle.
Her left pinky was bent out of place, and she couldn't get a firm grip.
The bottle trembled in her hand, whiskey sloshing over the rim and soaking into her sleeve.
She switched to her right hand and poured slowly.
Her hand shook. The liquid flowed unevenly, half of it spilling onto the table.
Marty watched, then sneered, "Useless."
He kicked her in the shoulder. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to knock her off balance.
She fell sideways. Her cheek hit the floor, her lip splitting open as a thin line of blood seeped out.
Lillian let out a small, startled cry.
The others finally shifted their gaze. Some pulled out their phones. Others got up to pour themselves another drink. No one moved to help Zoe.
Zoe pushed herself up. She picked up the bottle again, filled the glass properly this time, then held it with both hands and raised it toward Marty.
She lifted her head and looked at him.
Marty was still smiling.