Phoebe's POV
My heart lurched when knuckles rapped against the door. The sound nearly tore a scream from my throat, but I clamped down hard, swallowing the panic whole.
"Y-Yes?" My voice betrayed me with its tremor. Thank God I'd locked the door—whoever stood outside couldn't barge in and catch me red-handed with the poison.
"Why is this door locked?" Perry's deep voice cut through the bathroom walls. The doorknob rattled as he tested it. "What the hell are you doing in there?"
He hadn't meant to interrupt my privacy, but the silence from inside had set him on edge. I'd punched glass and begged for death when he'd tried to touch me before. Given my track record, his suspicion made perfect sense.
If I didn't answer soon, he'd probably tear the door off its hinges.
"Just a minute." I shoved the poison bottle deep into the bottom drawer's furthest corner, then yanked the door open. His serious expression greeted me like a storm cloud.
