Chapter Ten

Billie and her mom spend the evening baking a chocolate cream pie together, laughing and chatting as they mix and roll out the dough. The aroma of melting chocolate and sweet cream fills the air, making their mouths water in anticipation. Billie hadn't felt this close to her mom since the incident.

As the pie bakes in the oven, they snuggle up on the couch, watching the debate between the Cooks and the Sloanes on TV.

She pays attention to their tactics, noticing that Cook uses years of experience in politics to answer, while Sloane leans towards a business-like approach.

Billie finds herself studying Sloane, noticing the way he carries himself with confidence and poise. She sees similarities between him and Jasher - the same piercing gaze, the same air of quiet intensity. But there are differences too - Sloane's smile is more charming, his words more polished. She wonders what Jasher would be like if he had Sloane's charisma.

As the debate ends, they watch a movie while munching on chocolate cream pie. Billie then heads to her room, taking out her notepad and jotting down notes. She adds more details to the timeline, more connections between the suspects. She writes down her thoughts about Sloane and Jasher, trying to make sense of their similarities and differences.

The Sloanes arrive late to dinner, Mr. Sloane strolling in with a smile as if to show he kept the Cooks waiting because he could. Mrs. Cook tolerates it with a gracious smile, but Dana can sense the tension beneath the surface.

"Sorry we're late," Mr. Sloane says, his voice dripping with insincerity. "I had a lot of welldone calls concerning the dabate."

Mrs. Cook waves her hand. "No worries, no worries. We're just glad you could make it."

They usher them into the dinning room, Mr. Cook quiet throughout. He sits at the head of the table, his wife beside him. Jasher sits opposite Dana, his father beside him.

As they settle down to eat, the conversation turns to Jasher and Dana. "So, are you two close?" Mrs. Cook asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Jasher lowers his spoon, eyeing a terrifying Dana behind thick lashes. She equally looks at him, then at her mother.

Dana snorts. "Close? No. He's on a different league."

Jasher drops his spoon altogether. She literally called him a loser near his dad. He stares at him at the corner of his eyes.

Sloane's eyes narrow. "I think you're being a bit harsh, miss cook. Vanity doesn't become you."

Dana's face reddens. "Excuse me? You're one to talk, Mr. Sloane. Your son's a total weirdo."

The atmosphere grows hostile, Mr. Sloane staring silently at her. It was one of those dead stare that was hard to decipher, but was probably hostile.

Mrs. Cook tries to change the subject, succeeding as her husband finally speaks.

“You did well in the debate, Mr. Sloane. You surprised me?”

“That surprised you?” Sloane chuckles. “Then it seems you don't usually get cunning rivals. You're in for more shock.”

“Don't flatter yourself. In fact, you should give up while you can. This town is loyal to us.”

“Loyalties change, Mr. Cook. I provide them with schools, oil companies and public facilities. You, on the other hand, supply them with cocoa for coffees.” Sloane's tone is so condescending, Mr. Cook tightens his hand on his fork.

“It's not just cocoa.”

Sloane chuckles. “Right. There's a poultry too.”

Dana slams her hand on the table. "Don't talk to my parents like that!"

“Dana!” Mr. Cook reprimands.

Mr. Sloane drags his chair back, getting up, his face devoid of any emotion. Jasher follows. "I think we've overstayed our welcome."

As Sloane approaches the car, he pauses, looking over his shoulder. “That's who I wanted you to be like. Dana Cook. Cunning and sharp, like a fox.”

Jasher looks at his loafers, teeth sinking into his already bruised bottom lip.

As they leave, the Cooks reprimand Dana for her behavior. "You can't just yell at people like that, Dana. It's rude."

“He was mocking you.”

“It's my job to defend this family. Not yours.”

“But -”

“Not yours, Dana.” He storms out of the room abruptly and Mrs. Cook follows after him.

Dana stares into space, alone in the dinner room, her anger slowly giving way to tears. She feels a pang of regret for what she has said, but it's too late now.