Perry's POV
"Why did you poison yourself?" I repeated the question when Phoebe remained silent. "Why would you do such a thing? If your goal was to kill me, there were countless other ways to make me consume poison."
I knew the truth now.
Phoebe seemed uncertain about how I'd discovered her method of administering poison to me, but it no longer mattered. She slapped my hand away and sat down, fixing me with a fierce glare.
"Don't... touch... me." Phoebe forced out each word through gritted teeth, struggling to speak. Her throat was constricting again—the same response that always surfaced when her emotions spiraled out of control.
Phoebe's breathing became rapid and shallow. I could see she despised this vulnerability, especially with me so close. My anger and frustration were written all over my face, and she could read it clearly.
