I jerk her arm when she refuses to answer me and speak the truth. It’s then that a bottle falls from her pocket, the one her hand was in. She immediately glances at the bottle. I gaze at her and see the fear seep from her eyes. I lunge for the bottle at the same time she does. Lucky for me, my reflexes are better, and I grasp it first.
“Lillith …” she murmurs as I get up on my feet and read the inscription.
Polonium-210.
She snatches the bottle away from me. Her face has taken on an unrecognizable darkness. I take a step back as she holds the bottle close to her chest and stares at me.
“Go to your room.”
I frown, my eyes going back and forth between her and the bottle. My mom isn’t my mom anymore.
“Go. Now!”
Accompanying Song: “The Hunt” by Johnny Jewel & Nat Walker
Present
“Polonium …” I whisper. “You poisoned him?”
Tears stream down her face, her lips curled by disgust. “I’m sorry, Lillith.”
My legs are shaking beneath me. “You poisoned my dad?” I utter in defeat.
“I had no other choice …” she mumbles.
“How could you?”
I can’t keep the tears at bay anymore. What I see in front of me fills me with misery. My world is crumbling down in front of me. The woman I once knew and loved is the one I should hate the most.
“I’m sorry …” she says again. “I didn’t want to, but he made me do it. I had no other choice, Lillith. Please, believe me. He would’ve killed me if I didn’t go through with it.”
“Who?” I snap.
Her eyes move to my shoulder, glancing briefly at something behind me before returning to me. I freeze. Oh God, no … this is what’s been happening all along. Of course, it all makes sense now.
It was him … Newman.
He came into our house after buttering up to my mom. She’d been flirting on and off with him, pretending it didn’t happen while she was betraying my father behind his back. I should’ve known it was him, instructing her to kill him when the time came and she could no longer refuse. He threatened her, hit her in the face, reminding her who was in charge. It all happened before I came home, but I can see it play out in front of me.
She wanted to be loved. Instead, she got death and a punishment suitable for a monster.
Newman remains where he is, unmoving, and it strikes me as odd. Maybe he didn’t see my mom pointing him out as the one responsible with her eyes. So I make a move to prevent my cover from being blown and him knowing that I remember everything.
I pretend that I never saw her eyes move. “You won’t tell me, huh?” I say.
She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry …”
“Sorry won’t bring him back,” I snap.
Even if my question was fake, the anger I feel is real. “You’re a murderer.”
She killed him. No matter what way she twists this, her words cannot hide the truth. Ultimately, she was the one who gave the poison to him, not Newman. She sacrificed my father’s life so she could save her own.
“I had to. I had to …” she repeats, her voice growing softer.
“No!” I yell.
Blinded by rage, I jump at her, slapping her straight in the face. Newman is right behind me, yelling at me, but I don’t hear anything anymore. All I can see is my father’s withering face, his dying body, and beautiful soul that was drained out of him. It’s all because of her.
I hate her.
My fingers wrap around her neck.
I want to kill her.
Something hits my head from behind.
Stars appear in my view and I black out.
Hours later
I wake up strapped to a bed. I don’t know where I am or how I came to be here, but I do recognize the room as the same one that I was in before. My head feels like it’s about to explode. My body ignites with energy the moment I realize that I saw my mother. She’s alive. And she killed my father.
I push myself up from the bed, only to discover that I can’t move. My ankles and wrists are bound to the bed. There is no escape. I’m trapped.
I scream. “Help!”
I do it again and again, thrashing in the bed, trying to draw attention. I’m hurt, I can feel it, and yet nobody seems to care. The back of my head is bleeding, probably from the fact that I was hit with a blunt object. Whatever it was, I’m surprised I can still feel it and remember everything. I almost come to expect memory loss nowadays, especially after something as traumatic as what I just learned.
Suddenly, someone opens the door. It’s Newman. With his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face, he leans against the doorpost, staring at me.