Stella didn't wait this time.
She burst into Andrew's study, holding the singed edge of her canvas in both hands.
“She set fire to it. You know she did."
Andrew didn't look up. “I said we'd talk in the morning."
“It is morning."
“Then give me five minutes."
“No," Stella snapped. “You don't get five minutes anymore."
He finally looked at her. “You're not thinking clearly."
“I'm the only one who is."
Footsteps echoed behind her.
Ella appeared in the doorway, wrist wrapped in gauze, eyes wet.
“You're yelling," she said softly. “Again."
“Don't," Stella said, turning toward her. “Not the voice. Not the tears."
“I'm not lying."
“You don't even know how to tell the truth."
“I didn't set that fire."
“You're not even good at hiding it," Stella said. “The open solvent, the sudden inj
