Daisy plucked, p.27
Daisy, Plucked, page 27
“Oh no, no, no, this wasn’t — Noriko, no, I didn’t mean to,” Dennis cried, watching in horror as Noriko staggered back against the wall and slid down it, clutching her side. Dennis lurched forward, cradling Noriko close to his chest even as she struggled against his grip. He took off his blazer and applied pressure to the gunshot wound in Noriko’s side, murmuring apologies until they sounded like nonsense.
Daisy pressed herself back against the wall and watched the scene play out in front of her like a daytime television drama. Dennis was unworried about the gun that fell to the floor during their struggle, only focused on helping Noriko.
“What have you done?” Noriko asked, looking around wildly as if something in this room would explain the web that Dennis weaved, the one they were all trapped in now.
“Don’t try to talk right now. You’re losing a lot of blood,” Dennis said, pushing harder against the growing bloodstain in his blazer. She tried to move again, but he held her in place.
“Hana didn’t kill herself? And you knew?” Noriko asked, demanding an answer.
“I didn’t kill her. I just helped cover it up so it would be easier to move on, so it would be easier for us to be together,” Dennis explained, searching his pockets for his phone.
“Yes, so we can ... be together,” Noriko said. She reached towards him, but instead of caressing him she picked up his discarded gun. His face turned stormy when she held it to his head with shaking hands, and he rocked back on his heels, his hands raised in the air.
“Nori, what are you doing? I did this for us, I did all of this for us, and this is how you repay me?” he said it as if he was a knight in shining armor, and she was angry at him for slaying the dragon.
Noriko clicked the safety off the gun and pointed it directly at his forehead. “Daisy, go,” she said.
“You ruined everything, you stupid little girl, and I’m going to—” Dennis screamed, his face the picture of fury. Before he could do anything, though, the front door slammed open.
All three of them froze.
“Daisy! Daisy, I’m here!” Will called, his footsteps pounding up the stairs. He ran into the room and froze at the scene in front of him, dropping his bike helmet.
“What — what’s going on? Daisy, are you okay?” Will asked, turning his entire attention on her, as if Noriko bleeding on the floor with a gun aimed at Dennis was inconsequential in all of this.
“She’s fine, but she knows the truth now. She knows what you did,” Dennis said, his voice cruel and dark. Will glared at the older man, and Daisy shrank back from the pure hatred and rage in his eyes.
“You tricked me. You told me you were helping me because you cared about me and cared about my future, not because you wanted Hana dead,” Will bit out.
“What is he talking about,” Noriko asked, her voice weaker than before. Daisy didn’t know how much longer Noriko could hold the gun up for. Hana’s ghost was back at Daisy’s side, trying to urge her towards the door, trying to protect her once again from the chaos around her, but Daisy didn’t want to run. She wanted the truth, all the painful parts of it laid out in front of her in unavoidable detail.
“I killed Hana,” Will said. “Dennis found me afterwards and helped me cover it up. I just didn’t realize how much experience he had faking suicides.”
Dennis glared at him, and Noriko’s gaze flickered over, trying to discern the truth of Will’s statement.
In the moment of distraction, Dennis reached for the gun, and Noriko fired it, though she only managed to hit the round light on Hana’s ceiling. The glass around the bulb shattered and rained down, making both Dennis and Noriko shield themselves while Will threw himself over Daisy. She dropped to the ground and lurched towards Noriko, grabbing the gun out of her weak grip and standing up again, backing towards the door. She felt in her back pocket for her phone, but it must have fallen out at some point during her struggle with Dennis.
“Has anyone called 911?” Daisy asked, her voice eerily calm. Will took a step towards her, but Daisy turned the gun on him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Daisy, what are you doing?”
The gun shook in her hands. “What am I doing? You killed Hana!”
Will held out his hands in a pleading motion. “It was an accident! We were fighting, and I just pushed her, and I thought — I didn't think she would fall over, and then she hit her head, and she wouldn't wake up. I just, she hurt you so bad. And she didn't even seem sorry. I got so mad. I just went there to try to find out why she did what she did so you could move on and find someone who could love you like you deserve and not treat you like shit,” Will explained, as if anything he said would make what he did okay.
Daisy shook her head at him. “You killed the love of my life. She was my best friend, and even after I told you to leave things alone, you just had to come talk to her. I’m eighteen! I can stand up for myself. You didn’t have to ... you shouldn’t have—”
“You said you wished for once she would deal with the consequences of hurting you. I was just going to yell at her.”
“I also told you to stay out of it, it’s amazing how selective your hearing is,” Daisy snapped. Will flinched back, and Daisy took a deep breath, holding the gun steady and looking around the room.
“I didn’t call 911,” Noriko said. “I saw you through the window when I pulled in the driveway and came straight up.” Noriko acted as though Daisy and Will’s fighting wasn’t happening. The color was draining from her face and her breaths were getting shallower.
“I did. I told them you were in danger,” Will said.
“You’re an idiot, just like your father,” Dennis seethed. “You’re going to get eaten alive in prison.”
Daisy pointed the gun back at him. “Shut up. You don’t get to manipulate any of us anymore. You’re done playing your games.”
“Am I?” Dennis taunted. “I’m the top defense attorney in the state. Do you know how many murderers I’ve gotten off? Do you know how flimsy a years old cold case is? Do you even know how much I can get a sentence reduced for being an accomplice who’s willing to cooperate with the prosecution?”
Daisy didn’t remember firing the first shot, only the expression on Dennis’ face when it hit him square in the chest. Will lurched towards her, yanking the gun out of her hand. He fired the rest of the clip, hitting Dennis two more times before deliberately shattering Hana’s vanity mirror with his other shot. He dropped the gun to the ground and sank to his knees, watching Dennis intently as if he was going to recover from the shot that hit him squarely in his throat.
“Why did you do that?” Daisy demanded.
“Your shot didn’t land. He needed to pay,” Will said. His eyes flicked towards Daisy’s phone, which had fallen out of her pocket at some point and was now face up. The video was still recording, the screen only showed blackness from where the camera was pressed against the ground.
“He’s right,” Noriko said, her eyes fixed on Daisy as well. Before Daisy could respond, she heard the police announcing themselves and thundering up the stairs, their guns drawn. Will and Daisy put their arms up, and Noriko struggled to lift her arms before passing out cold.
The next two hours were a blur. Daisy and Noriko were taken to the hospital in separate ambulances, even though Daisy insisted she wasn’t hurt and didn’t need to go. One of the paramedics pointed out the gash on her shoulder she got from falling into the dresser, something she didn’t feel until they mentioned it.
She didn’t remember a single one of the questions the police asked or any of the answers she gave, only that once she handed them her still-recording phone the questions stopped. She could almost hear her father’s voice in the back of her head telling her to lawyer up the second any cop started questioning her, but she didn’t heed his advice. She was too numb to think through anything.
Reality snapped back with startling clarity when her father ripped open the curtain surrounding her bed at emergency room, his eyes wide with panic.
“Daisy, oh my god, you’re okay,” Henry said, running to her side and pulling her into a hug.
“You should see the other guy,” she joked before promptly bursting into tears. Henry just held her while she cried.
“I’m glad that you’re okay,” Henry said gruffly once the worst of Daisy’s sobs were done.
Daisy smiled weakly at him, still sniffling. “Will killed Hana. And Dennis, he ... he got Mark killed, and he—”
“I know, Daisy. They explained it all when they called me. Will used his one phone call for me.”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t ... Where’s Noriko? Is she okay?”
“The doctors wouldn’t tell me much, just that she was in surgery and that they’d ask her if I could see her once she wakes up. If she wakes up.”
“I made a real mess of things, didn’t I?” Daisy asked.
“This ... this wasn’t your fault. I’m gonna go find a nurse, see if we can get you discharged soon.”
“Okay, Dad. I’ll be here.”
Henry strode away and Daisy curled her knees into her chest, startling when Hana’s ghost appeared at her side.
“It’s time for me to go. Thank you, Daisy,” she said. She smiled Daisy’s favorite smile, the one Hana reserved just for her. What would their life have been like together if Hana had never tried to investigate her father’s death, if she never cheated on Daisy last Halloween, if things had gone the way Daisy used to think they would?
“I’m always going to love you,” Daisy murmured, hoping no one bustling around the emergency room would hear her.
“I loved you from the moment I knew you until my heart stopped beating.”
Daisy closed her eyes and sucked in a shuddering breath. Hana’s ghost squeezed her hand, one last time.
When she opened her eyes, Hana was gone and Daisy was left, once again, with only the living.
Acknowledgements
Where do I start! I came up with the idea for this book during my sophomore year of college while reading Hamlet for the third time. When I realized Ophelia was only in five scenes and still became such an iconic character in literature, I asked myself what it would look like if she had more agency and the ability to depend on herself and not the men in her life. This book was the result.
I couldn’t have made this book what it is without the help of my incredible editor Raneé Clark. Your notes made me rethink my story in a new way and brought it to a whole new level that I couldn’t have reached on my own. Thank you also to my beta reader, Jess, for your feedback and encouragement on an early draft.
Of course, I need to thank my friends and family who made me into the writer I am today. Mom, thank you for reading every draft and telling me it was better than the last — I hope you think this is the best one yet. Dad, thank you for actually reading my book and breaking your years long reading slump. Abby, thank you for listening to me rant about writing as if this isn’t something I am fully doing of my own volition, and for always believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. Cabby 13ever. Brianne, thank you for being the best travel buddy and for always cheering me up with endless memes, TikToks, and words of encouragement. I can’t wait to see all the places we’ll go together. Baylee, I am so glad the universe (via New Paltz housing) brought us together. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I didn’t meet you. Also, you were right, Reputation did change my life.
Thank you to Shakespeare, both the playwright and my dog. Neither of you can read this acknowledgement, but I couldn’t have written this without both of you.
A special thanks also to the musicians who got me through writing this book. Orla Gartland, I couldn’t have written the last two chapters without replaying “Over My Head” approximately 100 times. Taylor Swift, thanks for being an endless source of inspiration and joy — analyzing your lyrics has made me a better writer. Djo, thank you for creating Decide, an incredible album that always gets me into a creative headspace.
I’m sure I’ve forgotten people, so thank you to anyone else who encouraged me to write and not give up on my dreams of publishing this book even after rounds and rounds of rejections and setbacks.
And thank you, reader, for picking up this book. I hope you loved Daisy and Hana as much as I do.
About the Author
C. E. Witherow is a queer writer living in Rochester, NY with her border collie mix, Shakespeare. When she's not writing, she co-hosts a Taylor Swift podcast called Swiftlore with her best friend, curates hyper-specific playlists, and spends too much time on TikTok. This is her first novel, and she is so excited to finally share it with the world.
Read more at C. E. Witherow’s site.
C. E. Witherow, Daisy, Plucked
