“No! Stay away from me! I didn’t kill you, Ashley—you died because of your own cursed fate!” She was so terrified she looked half out of her mind, stumbling like she was running for her life—only to slam into someone’s chest.
Another ear-splitting scream tore out of her.
“June, it’s me!”
The next second, the lights snapped back on. Fletcher stood there, face cold.
“Cut the act, Zoey!” he snapped. “From the start, I knew you came into this house with your own hidden agenda. Now—care to tell me what you’ve really been plotting?”
At his words, Zoey let out a cold laugh and peeled off the ghost mask.
“Didn’t think you’d catch on this early,” she said casually. “You really want to know why I went through all this trouble to get into your house, Fletcher?”
She was nothing like the quiet housemaid from before. Now she stood there, eyes icy, pointing straight at June.
“I came here for one reason—to expose this woman’s true, vicious nature.”
A flicker of guilt flashed across June’s pale, disheveled face.
“Don’t listen to her, Fletcher. She wants to drive a wedge between us. Get her out now!” She clutched Fletcher’s arm tightly, panicked.
But the man who usually spoiled her didn’t move a muscle.