Chapter 7 - THE CRACKED MASK
The word hit me like a physical blow. Sister.
I looked from Julian’s sharp, aquiline nose to Verity’s cold blue eyes. Now that the polish had shattered, the resemblance was glaring. The same thin, cruel mouth. The same posture of unearned superiority.
“His half-sister,” Verity spat, glaring at Julian with pure hatred as the handcuffs bit into her wrists. “And he promised me half the company if I could break Stellan’s family from the inside.”
“Shut up, Verity!” Julian yelled, rising from the booth, but the second detective placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down.
“You shut up!” she screamed, completely unhinged now. “You left me in Cleveland to do your dirty work! You told me to get close to Clara, but when she died too fast, you told me to marry the widower! You said Stellan was weak, that he’d sign whatever I put in front of him if I played the loving stepmother!”
Guests in the lounge had pulled out their phones, recording the scene. The elegant façade of the Vance family was dissolving into an ugly, public brawl.
“I spent eight months in that house!” Verity shrieked, her voice echoing off the brass chandeliers. “Wiping that miserable orphan’s nose! Listening to her cry for her dead mother every single night! She wouldn't let me touch her, she wouldn't let me love her, she looked at me like I was poison!”
“Because you were poison,” I said, stepping between her and the officers.
I reached forward and pulled Clara’s gold locket from her coat pocket.
Verity lunged toward me, but the officers held her back. “Give that back! That’s gold! That’s mine!”
“This was never yours,” I said softly. “Neither was my family.”
Detective Chen looked at Julian. “Mr. Vance, you’re coming downtown for questioning regarding conspiracy to commit corporate espionage, wire fraud, and accessory to child endangerment.”
“I have lawyers,” Julian said through clenched teeth, though his hands were visibly shaking as the officers escorted him out of the booth. “You’ll be out of a job by morning, Chen.”
“I’ll take my chances, sir,” Chen replied calmly.
As they led Verity past me, she stopped. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her perfect hair coming undone, her face contorted in a mix of fury and bitter regret.
“You think you won, Stellan?” she whispered, leaning toward my ear. “You think your little girl is going to forget what I told her? Every time she looks in a mirror, every time she gets cold, she’s going to remember that water. She’s going to remember that her father let a monster sleep in the next room for eight months.”
The words were designed to wound, to plant an enduring guilt that would poison whatever peace Lottie and I had left.
I didn't shout. I didn't return the insult.
I reached into the plastic bag I had carried from home. I pulled out Lottie’s soaked, stained yellow dress and dropped it right onto the leather seat of the booth where Verity had been sitting.
“She’s four, Verity,” I said. “She’s going to forget your name before she learns how to ride a bike. But you’re going to remember this dress every day of your sentence.”
Verity’s lips parted, but no sound came out. The officers pushed her forward, marching her through the revolving doors into the flashing red and blue lights waiting on High Street.
Detective Chen turned to me, handing me a business card. “We need your formal statement tomorrow morning, Mr. Miller. But tonight, go home to your daughter.”
“Is it over?” I asked, looking at the silver cassette recorder still resting on the table.
“For them? It’s just beginning,” Chen said. “We’ve already executed a search warrant on Julian Vance’s private office based on the medical files your sister provided from Lakeview. They won't be posting bail anytime soon.”
May you like
I stepped out of the hotel into the cool night air. The city was alive with traffic and neon lights, but for the first time in two years, the crushing weight on my chest felt lighter.
I got into my truck, turned the heater on high, and drove straight to Wrenna’s house.
