She’d already planned out how she was going to contradict anything Rachel said, so she couldn’t understand why she was suddenly struggling to speak.
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“You accused me of throwing a vase at you. Can you tell me how big the vase was? Where I got it from? How hard I threw it? Was it underhand or overhead?”
“It… It was a small vase. And you got it from… I don’t know…”
Olivia gave up trying to lie her way through Rachel’s questions and turned to Victor with a pitiful expression.
“Mr. Sullivan, I don’t know why Rachel is asking me these questions. But do you think it’s really necessary? Surely you don’t think I would have cut my own arm?”
Victor kept his expression perfectly neutral.
“Answer her questions,” he said blandly.
‘s
““Wh-? Mr. Sullivan?” Olivia’s eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at Victor like he’d suddenly turned a different color.
Rachel stayed quiet and watched the two of them. She was beginning to think her previous assumptions were right; perhaps there was something wrong with Victor’s brain.
Olivia started to cave under the assault of Victor’s cold stare.
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Tears sprung to her eyes as all the color drained from her face.
“I…” she said in a trembling voice.
“I can’t remember.”
“That’s alright. Let me ask you this one last question, just to make things easier,” Rachel said with a triumphant smile.
“Was there water in the vase when I threw it at you?”
Olivia’s heart was pounding so fiercely in her chest that she could barely concentrate. Without thinking, she answered, “Yes. There was water in it.”
“Strange,” Rachel said as if she were perturbed.
“What… What’s strange?” Olivia said, still in a panicked daze.
“I just find it strange that your clothes somehow didn’t get wet during the whole ordeal. I mean, if one of the shards of the vase could gash your arm when it shattered against the wall, then how is it that you managed to stay dry? Surely you’d have been soaked?”
Rachel’s mellow, level voice got louder and louder as she spoke.
Olivia was already panicking so badly from the guilt at being found out that the questions threw her totally off guard.
“I… I… I changed my clothes afterwards,” she blurted out, not even pausing to consider her words. She tried to take a step back, realizing that she might be in real danger now. But she ended up stepping on herself and stumbling.
“Really? If you changed your clothes, then why is your sleeve torn?”
Rachel nodded towards the clothing she was currently wearing. When Olivia had first told the story, she’d vividly described how a piece of broken vase had cut her arm, and how much she’d bled as a result.
It was understandable that the clothes she’d been wearing then were torn. But it made no sense that the clothing she was wearing now also had a torn sleeve that was covered in blood if she really did change her clothes.
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