Alicia found her mother in front of the mirror, seated on a low velvet stool, running a silver brush through her hair with slow strokes. The room was warm and dim, lit only by the lamps on either side of the vanity. Valerie did not turn when the door opened, but her eyes met Alicia's in the glass.
"You said you were not going to touch her for now," Alicia said, her voice tight.
Valerie's hand paused, and she set the brush down gently. "What are you talking about?"
"You told me." Alicia came around in front of her. "You told me you wouldn't move on Jessica yet. You said Kai's eyes were on her, and anything that happened to her now would have him tearing the territory apart looking for a reason. That was you."
"I said that," Valerie said.
"Then why did you do it anyway?"
Valerie turned on the stool to face her daughter. There was no guilt in her expression, or any sly satisfaction. Only confusion. "Do what, Alicia?"
