Chapter 7

The sound of the cup shattering on the floor was like a gunshot in the silent room.

Barbara's face went ashen. She clutched her chest, a strangled gasp escaping her lips, and collapsed.

"Mom!" Charlotte screamed, lunging to catch her.

Kaylynn watched, her expression one of pure, ecstatic victory, before turning and walking away, her laughter echoing down the sterile hospital corridor.

Doctors rushed in. It was another heart episode, more severe this time. "She can't take any more stress," the doctor warned Charlotte, his face grim. "Another shock like this could kill her."

Charlotte sat in the dark by Barbara's bedside, the real urn containing Julianne's ashes on the nightstand. It was a cold, heavy weight, a constant reminder of the unspeakable violation.

Hate was a living thing inside her now, a coiled serpent in her gut. She wanted to kill them. She wanted to tear them apart with her bare hands. But she looked at her mother's frail, sleeping form, and she knew she couldn't. Barbara was all she had left. She had to protect her.

She had to get them out.

She stayed up all night, watching her mother breathe. The next morning, she went to arrange for Barbara's discharge.

When she returned, the room was empty.

The serpent of hate in her gut turned to ice. Panic, absolute and suffocating, seized her. Not again. Please, not again.

Then Everett was there, blocking the doorway. His face was cold, impassive.

"Where is she?" Charlotte demanded, her voice shaking.

"Kaylynn's mother had a fall," Everett said, his tone casual. "She's claiming your mother pushed her. She's talking to the police right now."

"What? That's insane! My mother can barely walk! She was here the whole time!" Charlotte's voice rose to a hysterical shriek. "Where is my mother, Everett? She is all I have left!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, turning to leave. "I need to go check on Kaylynn. Her mother is very important to her."

The world tilted. He was choosing them, again. Over her. Over her family.

"Why?" Charlotte cried, grabbing his arm. "Why won't you just leave us alone? We have nothing left to give you."

He shook her off, his face twisting in annoyance. "Don't be so dramatic."

Just then, his phone rang. It was Kaylynn. Her voice, tinny and panicked, came through the speaker. "Everett, Mommy is awake! She said she just slipped on a wet spot! It was an accident!"

Everett hung up, his expression unreadable. He started to walk away.

"Where is my mother?" Charlotte screamed, grabbing him again.

He sighed, a long, put-upon sound. "She's in the stairwell. I had my men... move her."

Charlotte ran. She found Barbara crumpled at the bottom of a concrete flight of stairs, unconscious, her leg bent at an unnatural angle.

She knelt beside her mother, a wave of black, despairing rage washing over her. She cradled Barbara's head in her lap and wept, not with tears of grief, but with tears of pure, unadulterated hatred.

Later, as she sat by Barbara's new hospital bed, her phone buzzed. A text from Everett.

Kaylynn's grant celebration party. Tonight. Be there.

She ignored it.

A minute later, another text. It was a link to a video file. The file name was "Julianne_Private_Viewing.mp4".

Her hand trembled as she typed her reply.

I'll be there.