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This time it’s Abram who steps in. The words rush out with a venom-fueled hatred so strong I have to fight not to flinch. “Rory wasn’t the one in the car with Cole that night.”
Lorna swallows, and I can tell she’s unsure if she should believe him.
“Two people were in that car. I saw it,” she demands, admitting she was there. Grunting, her hold automatically tightens around the base out of her own frustrations.
Her hands have started to shake as well, but I know she’s listening. Lorna’s sanity is hanging by a limp piece of thread.
“That wasn’t Rory that night, that was our son. You could’ve killed my son,” Abram says, sagging into the weight of the truth. “You hurt Finn, not Rory.”
Lorna’s limbs fully start to tremble now. The harder she tries to remain in control, the more her eyelids stutter.
She had no idea.
Her movements increase the more the situation amplifies. The wheel’s spinning, only it’s too bad the hamster is already dead.
“You’re lying!” she screams.
Her decision made.
“Want to see the hospital bill,” he refutes. “Or better yet, why don’t you go visit him once he’s out of surgery?” Bitterness coats his every breath like the vile poison that she is.
The truth paints her face into a startling shade of white as the gun drops to her side.
I see it then, in some fucked-up way, Lorna actually cares about Finn. She looks as if she’d rather walk through hot coals of glass than rehear the painful news.
What she’d done, who she’d hurt.
The resolution is short lived, and the loaded steel is once again lifted. Her anger pushing past the few sets of tears she doesn’t bother to wipe from her cheeks.
The facts wash over with the intensity of a wave. There’s nothing for any of us to do but wait as the siren finishes singing the lyrics to her deadly song.
Reality as terrifying as it is tempting.
Lorna’s head straightens, startled. The tears drying up faster than if we were in the desert. Her mouth twists, that action as detached as her sanity the closer Silas moves.
Instead of reaching for the gun—like any rational person would—he shifts, and it all becomes abundantly, hideously, clear.
The ground slips from beneath us all as my body goes into a paralyzing state of numbness. Silas now stands beside her and my lungs clog.
It’s us versus them.
“This whole time, they’ve been in on it together,” Sgt. Daniels growls. Not bothering to control his anger.
We’ve all been cheated. Duped.
Fucking pieces of shit. Both of them.
The only one who doesn’t seem taken aback by all this is Cole. Although when it came to his father, his optimism was always nonexistent.
As quickly as a blink, the atmosphere shifts, and I’m once again thrown onto a ride I didn’t ask to partake in. The charged space dips with the same measure of saneness.
The blunt metal of the gun shines, only it’s no longer pointed at any of us but at Silas himself.
The action happens so rapidly and so swiftly that not even he expects it. Tactile as he is, he’s now the one in shock as it sits pressed to his chest.
No one goes to help Silas, even as that muscle in his cheek twitches. “You double-crossing bitch!”
Had Lorna been the true game master the entire time, fooling everyone?
