Chapter 9
I closed my eyes.
This was it.
I was gonna die.
And Lily and Mia were gonna die too.
All because I hadn’t been careful enough.
All because I’d let my guard down for one second.
Then I heard it.
A soft, familiar voice.
“Grandma?”
Margaret froze.
She turned her head slightly.
Lily had managed to work the gag out of her mouth.
She was looking right at Margaret, big eyes full of tears.
“Grandma, why do you hate us so much?”
Margaret’s hand shook on the gun.
For a split second, I saw something in her eyes.
Something that wasn’t hatred.
Pain.
Old, deep pain she’d buried a long time ago.
“Shut up,” she said, her voice cracking. “Shut up, you little brat.”
“Daddy used to talk about you,” Lily said, soft but steady. “He said you were the strongest woman he ever knew. He said you worked three jobs when he was little so he could have new shoes for school. He said you loved him more than anything in the whole world.”
Margaret’s face crumbled.
The gun wavered.
“Stop it,” she whispered.
“He said you were sad,” Lily said. “Really, really sad. Because your mom and dad died when you were little, and you had to grow up all alone. He said you were scared of being poor again. Scared of losing everything. That’s why you cared so much about the money. He said he didn’t blame you. He loved you anyway. Even when you were mean.”
Tears were streaming down Margaret’s face now.
She lowered the gun.
It fell to her side.
“I did love him,” she sobbed. “I loved him more than anything. I worked my fingers to the bone so he’d never have to go hungry. So he’d never have to wear secondhand clothes. So he’d have everything I never had. And then he met you. And he threw it all away. He was gonna leave the company to a little girl. A girl who would never understand what it took to build it. All those late nights. All those deals I made with men who wanted to destroy me. All the things I did to survive. And he was just gonna hand it over like it was nothing.”
She looked at me, broken.
“I didn’t want to kill him. I just wanted him to change his mind. I gave him a little too much of the medicine. I thought he’d just sleep for a while. I thought I’d have time to talk him into it. But his heart… it just stopped. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear to God I didn’t.”
I stared at her.
For the first time, I didn’t see a monster.
I saw a little girl who’d grown up scared and alone, who’d let her fear turn her into something ugly.
Who’d made one terrible mistake, then spent the rest of her life making worse ones to cover it up.
But that didn’t excuse what she’d done.
It didn’t bring Richard back.
It didn’t take away the seven years of hell she’d put Lily through.
It didn’t bring Javier back.
“Margaret,” I said, soft but firm. “It’s over. Put the gun down. The cops are gonna find you sooner or later. You can’t run forever. Give up. Let us go. And maybe… maybe you can spend the rest of your life trying to make up for what you did.”
She laughed, a bitter, broken sound.
“Make up for it? How? I killed my own son. I tortured a little girl. I killed an innocent man. There’s no making up for that. There’s only one way this ends.”
She raised the gun again.
But this time, she wasn’t pointing it at me.
She was pointing it at her own chest.
“No!” I screamed.
A shot rang out.
Loud.
Deafening.
But Margaret didn’t fall.
A figure stepped out of the dark hallway, a gun in her hand.
Lena.
She’d been shot in the shoulder.
Blood was soaking through her shirt.
But she was standing.
And she’d been the one who fired.
The bullet had hit Margaret’s gun, knocking it out of her hand.
It skittered across the floor.
“Lena?” Margaret said, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
Lena walked toward her, crying.
“I followed you,” she said. “I got out on bail yesterday. I saw the directions on your phone. I followed you up the mountain. I couldn’t let you do it, Mom. I couldn’t let you kill yourself. Or them. I’ve spent my whole life wanting you to love me. Wanting you to be proud of me. But this isn’t love. This is crazy. And I’m not gonna let you destroy yourself anymore.”
She dropped her gun.
She walked right up to Margaret and hugged her.
“I love you, Mom,” she said. “Even after everything. I love you. But you have to stop. Please. Just stop.”
Margaret stood there for a long second, stiff as a board.
Then she broke.
She wrapped her arms around Lena, sobbing like a little girl.
All the fight went out of her.
All the hatred.
All the cruelty.
She was just a tired, broken old woman, holding the daughter she’d abandoned 40 years earlier.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed into Lena’s hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I gave you up. I’m sorry I dragged you into all this. I’m sorry for everything.”
Sirens blared in the distance.
Getting closer.
Red and blue lights flashed through the windows.
Ben burst through the front door a second later, followed by a dozen state troopers, guns drawn.
“Freeze!” he yelled.
Margaret didn’t fight.
She didn’t run.
She just held Lena tighter, crying.
Two cops walked over and cuffed her gently.
She didn’t even look up.
They led her out.
Lena watched her go, crying.
A cop walked over to her, cuffed her too—she was still facing murder charges for Javier’s death.
She didn’t fight either.
I ran over to Lily, cutting the ropes around her wrists, pulling the gag off.
She threw her arms around my neck, sobbing.
I ran to Mia, cutting her loose too.
She was okay.
Just a bad headache and a bruise.
Ben walked over, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“The satellite phone,” he said. “You didn’t call at 8 p.m. like we agreed. I tried to call you back, no answer. I knew something was wrong. I called the state police. We drove as fast as we could.”
I looked out the window.
The cops were leading Margaret to a squad car.
She looked back at the cabin one last time.
Her eyes met mine.
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t glare.
She just nodded.
Like she was saying she was sorry.
Like she was finally at peace.
They put her in the car.
They closed the door.
She was gone.
May you like
It was over.
Really over.
