Artemisia

“What the hell is that smell?”

I watch Hendrick contort his face in rage as Lisa clasps the edge of the tray, making her knuckles go white.

“It’s… It’s a sweet tea, just like Missy likes it,” she stutters, trying to make excuses. “But I… I don’t know what is in it. Alberta prepared it. I was just asked to serve it.”

I know that she's lying because Alberta is one of the few people who were entrusted with the safeguarding of my food, so she would never let ...