Chapter 4

The party ended in absolute chaos. Mark and Brenda, their faces masks of horror and disbelief, were confronted with the undeniable reality of Cody and Tyler. Their dream of two Stanford-bound, athletic sons was replaced by the crushing weight of two severely disabled children they had abandoned. The other guests melted away, whispering, scandalized. The Thompsons, pale and shaken, could offer no support, only stammering denials that no one believed.

Reluctantly, with social services already alerted by Sarah's lawyer (who had been discreetly present), Mark and Brenda were forced to take custody of Cody and Tyler.

Sarah watched them go, a flicker of grim satisfaction in her eyes. She didn't return to her old, spacious house. As she'd told Patricia, it was sold. Her new home was a sleek, modern condo. She'd bought it months ago, the purchase carefully timed. It was directly across the hall from Apartment 3B, where a "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" had been living quietly for the past eighteen years. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, known in their quiet, unassuming apartment complex as a model couple, always polite, always discreet. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, who were, of course, Mark Thompson and Brenda Sullivan.

The walls were thin. Sarah didn't need to strain to hear the constant, violent arguments erupting from across the hall.

"This is your fault!" Brenda would shriek, her voice raw. "Your defective genes! You gave me these... these broken children!"

Mark's voice would retaliate, equally venomous. "My fault? You're the one who carried them! You're the one who couldn't even produce healthy heirs!"

The sounds of neglect were just as clear. The boys were an inconvenience, a constant, irritating reminder of their shattered illusions. Cody's requests for help often went ignored. Tyler's distressed cries were met with angry shouts to be quiet. Sarah listened, her face impassive, cataloging every slam of a door, every raised voice, every moment of cruelty. Her meticulous plan was unfolding, piece by piece.