Right after our daughter’s funeral, my husband insisted on quickly throwing out all her things from the kids’ room, but while cleaning, I found her note…
Her hands freed just as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Emily quickly hid the tape scraps under the bed and looked for a weapon. Nothing suitable except the same desk lamp.
She grabbed it, yanking the cord from the outlet, and stood behind the door. The key turned in the lock. The door opened, and Michael stepped into the room.
«It was just…» But he didn’t finish. Emily smashed the lamp on his head with all her strength. Michael staggered but didn’t fall.
He turned, grabbing her hand. «You…»
They grappled in a struggle. Michael was stronger, but rage and fear gave Emily strength.
She clawed at his face with her nails, trying to reach his eyes. Michael growled in pain, threw her against the wall. Emily hit her back, losing breath for a moment.
Michael advanced on her, blood oozing from the scratch on his cheek. «You’ll regret this. I was going to make it quick and painless. Now it’ll be different.»
He grabbed the syringe from the nightstand. «First, you’ll tell me everything. Names, addresses, who you gave the information to. Then we’ll go to that same bridge where Olivia crashed.»
Tragic story. Mother couldn’t bear daughter’s death, repeated her fate.
Emily backed up until she hit the window. «You won’t get away with it, Michael; too many people already know.»
«Bluffing,» he smirked. «But soon you’ll tell the truth.»
He lunged with the syringe, but Emily dodged. The syringe stuck in the window frame, and the needle broke. Michael cursed, tossed the useless tool. «Fine, no chemicals.»
He grabbed Emily by the throat, pressing her to the wall. «Who knows about the documents? Speak.»
«Police,» she rasped, trying to pry his fingers. «I sent everything to the police.»
«Lying,» he tightened his grip. «You wouldn’t go to the police. Too afraid they won’t believe you.»
Black spots swam before Emily’s eyes. No air.
With her last strength, she kneed Michael in the groin. He grunted, loosening his grip, and Emily broke free.
Emily dashed to the door, but Michael intercepted her, grabbing her hair. «You’re not going anywhere.»
He spun her to face him, raised his fist to strike. Emily instinctively shielded with her arms, bracing for pain.
But the blow didn’t come. In the doorway stood Alex, pointing a gun at Michael. «Police! Hands up, Davis!»
Michael froze, then slowly raised his hands. «What the hell? Who are you?»
«Detective Alex Carter.» Alex stepped into the room, not lowering the weapon. «You’re under arrest for suspicion of murdering Olivia Davis and attempting to murder Emily Davis.»
Michael laughed. «This is absurd. My stepdaughter died in a car crash. Accident. And with my wife, it’s just a family quarrel.»
«Family quarrel with a medical syringe and talk about bridges?» Alex nodded at the syringe on the floor. «It’s all recorded, Davis. Every word.»
He pointed to the microphone on his lapel. «The transmitter I gave Emily broadcast everything in real time. My people already have a search warrant. They’ll be here any minute.»
Michael paled but quickly composed himself. «This is illegal. Recording without my consent has no legal force.»..
