CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY
AUTHOR'S POV
Dera returned with a travelling bag. She stood at the height of the staircase just as she had done before, grinning evily.
"Prepare your minds for true revelation," she said as she began her descent. "Nothing's as sweet as seeing your potato-white faces" She barked a laugh.
"Do you have to do all this right when Michael's present? Don't you think this is some form of psychological abuse?" Mary pleaded with her eyes as she voiced her quarter.
Things were too messed up for her to blatantly demand Dera ended the charade. She was as much a victim, as she was a criminal.
"No!" Dera cut her off, dumping the bag on the floor right in front of them.
