“We’re poisoning Marnye, slowly but surely,” Creed murmurs, grabbing onto Miranda’s arm when she tries to wander off again. She glares at him and takes another swig of her champagne. “Poisoning her, huh?” Lizzie says with a smile, resting a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. He stiffens up and his face goes very still, but she doesn’t seem to notice. It makes me afraid to touch him. Does he not want to be touched at all? Or maybe … he just doesn’t want to be touched by her? I can’t tell. I can’t tell! And it’s freaking killing me. “How so?”
