“I have learned to not trust things as they appear, as the saying goes; even salt looks like sugar.”
Lavender was brought to an open clearing in the woods where the moonlight cast a beautiful sheen over a small patch of wildflowers that encased her. Drew’s mother, a woman who was so posh and decadent had moved to Lavender, scanning her in deep skepticism. Lavender could feel the elder woman’s finger drift upon the line of her clavicle and continue in a perfect circle around her, stopping when making a full circle. The woman then paused for a moment before clearing her throat and her henchman moving to this sound. A sudden shift of light collected on the metal end of a pair of scissors as Lavender was prepared to call out as the woman looked to her as if she would be her prey.
“I am not
