Daphne looked at herself in the mirror. She’d climbed out of the ditch Tonya dug and kicked her into, and slayed the last dragon that tied her to Tonya. Daphne washed her hands, but her eyes never left her face. She had to make sure there was no trace of the anxiety she felt when she returned to the ballroom. The longer she stared at herself, the more she could feel herself relax. Tonya was dead, and from the way it looked, the detectives believed all roads that led to her killer were dead ends. She checked her makeup, smoothed back her hair, waned a plastic smile, and headed back to her seat.
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