Chapter 10 - Face to Face in Iron
Thomas panicked. He fired the flare wildly into the windshield of Marcus’s cruiser, showering sparks across the hood, and bolted into the pitch-black maze of the salt marsh.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He vaulted over the cruiser’s hood and plunged into the muddy reeds after him.
Sirens echoed in the distance—state troopers and emergency medical services converging on the property. Fire trucks roared down the narrow dirt lane, hoses unraveling as firefighters began battling the blaze consuming the historic cottage.
Paramedics swarmed my father and me, wrapping us in oxygen masks and thermal blankets. Within ten minutes, two state troopers dragged Thomas out of the marsh, soaked in brackish water, his face bruised and his wrists bound tightly behind his back in zip-ties.
As they shoved Thomas into the back of a state cruiser, he glared at me through the glass with eyes full of unadulterated venom. He didn't look like my brother anymore; he looked like a wild animal that had finally been cornered.
The cottage was saved from total destruction, but the living room and porch were charred skeletons. Yet, inside the fireproof safe hidden beneath the pantry floorboards, the original, sealed copies of my grandmother's personal journals and biological trust codicils remained untouched by the flames.
Two days later, Detective Reed escorted me into the maximum-security wing of the Charleston County Detention Center.
I requested a face-to-face meeting with Lauren.
She sat behind the thick plexiglass partition, stripped of her designer bridal gowns, her diamonds, and her manicured nails. Her bright blonde hair was greasy and pulled into an untidy bun, wearing an orange jumpsuit that made her look gaunt and defeated.
When she saw me, her lips pulled into a sneer, but her eyes darted nervously to the fresh dressing on my neck.
"Did you come to gloat, Claire?" Lauren rasped through the intercom phone. "Did you come to show me your ugly scars?"
"I came to tell you that Thomas is in the adjacent cell block," I replied evenly, resting my hand flat against the glass.
Lauren flinched, the color draining instantly from her face. "What?"
"Thomas burned Grandmother's cottage," I continued, watching every micro-expression on her face crumble. "He tried to kill Dad and me. And he told Dad everything about Dr. Robert Sterling."
Lauren dropped the phone receiver against the steel shelf, backing away from the glass as if she had been struck. "No... no, Thomas promised..."
"Thomas didn't promise you anything, Lauren," I said, leaning closer to the grill so she could hear me clearly without the phone. "He used your petty, jealous hatred to turn you into a convict. He let you throw that lye so you would be disqualified from the estate. You were never his partner. You were his disposable pawn."
Lauren collapsed onto the metal stool, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with hysterical, silent sobs.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel anger toward my sister.
May you like
I felt nothing at all.
***