Chapter 5 - The Brother Who Burned It All Down
We got to the hospital in 10 minutes flat, Michael running every red light on the way. Two police officers stood outside my parents’ room, their hands resting on their guns. Kara was in the waiting room, pacing back and forth, her face streaked with tears. Tyler was with her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders — the police had let him out on bail that morning, and he’d been with her ever since.
“Are they okay?” I gasped, running over to her.
“They’re fine,” Kara said, pulling me into a hug. “The nurse was bringing in their meds when she heard the commotion. She opened the door and saw Jake leaning over Mom’s bed, a pillow in his hand. He ran when he saw her. The security guards chased him, but he got away through the emergency exit.”
“Did the police see him?” Michael said.
“One of the nurses got a good look,” Tyler said. “Said he has a tattoo of a snake on his neck now. Bigger than the last time we saw him. The cops are checking all the bus stations and motels. They say he can’t have gotten far.”
I walked into my parents’ room. They were still asleep, their chests rising and falling slowly, the monitors beeping steadily. The pillow was on the floor, the sheets rumpled. A cold rage burned through me. How dare he? How dare he come after them again? They’d done nothing to him. Nothing.
I stayed with them for an hour, holding their hands, talking to them, telling them I was there, that no one was going to hurt them again. When I walked back out into the waiting room, a woman was standing there, talking to the police officers. She was tall, with long dark hair streaked with blonde, wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans. She turned around when she saw me, and I froze.
It was Lila.
She looked older. Tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, a small scar on her left eyebrow I didn’t remember. But it was her. My Lila. The girl I’d shared every secret with for 13 years.
“Emily,” she said, her voice soft.
I walked over to her and slapped her as hard as I could. The sound echoed through the waiting room. Kara gasped. Michael stepped forward, like he was going to pull me back, but I shook him off.
“Where is he, Lila?” I yelled. “Where’s Jake? Did you send him here to finish the job? Did you poison my parents? Did you make Michael help you? What is wrong with you?”
Lila didn’t flinch. She just stood there, rubbing her cheek, her eyes sad. “I didn’t send him here, Em. I swear. I didn’t even know he was out of prison until last week. I’ve been trying to find him. To stop him. He’s not the same kid we knew, Emily. He’s angry. So angry. He blames your parents for everything. For me running away. For him going to juvie. For his whole messed-up life. He’s the one who poisoned them, Em. Not me. Not Michael. Him.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “Michael said you threatened him. Said you threatened Lily. Said you made him let you use his truck. We found your receipt for the wig and the coat in his truck. We found the vial.”
Lila’s face went white. She turned to Michael, her eyes blazing. “You told her that? You told her I threatened Lily? You lying son of a bitch.”
“Wait,” Kara said, stepping between them. “Everyone just calm down. Lila, why are you here? If you didn’t poison them, what do you want?”
Lila took a deep breath, pulling a thick stack of papers out of her bag and handing them to me. “I came here to tell you the truth. All of it. I’ve been digging for the last month. Ever since I found out Jake was getting out early for good behavior. I knew he’d come after your parents. I had to stop him. And what I found… it’s bigger than Jake. Bigger than Mrs. Hale. Bigger than all of us.”
I looked down at the papers. Old property deeds. Bank statements. Emails. A copy of my parents’ will, dated 3 months before the poisoning.
“Your dad co-owns that 5-acre lot with Mrs. Hale, right?” Lila said. “Everyone thinks it’s worth $500,000, tops. But there’s a developer from Chicago who wants to build a new hospital there. They’re offering $3.2 million for it. Cash. If your parents die, that lot goes to their heirs. Split three ways between you, Kara, and the person your dad named as the ‘residual trustee’ of the estate.”
“Who?” I said, flipping to the will.
My blood ran cold. The name was typed right there, in bold black letters: Michael David Thompson.
“Michael gets 51% of the estate,” Lila said. “You and Kara get 24.5% each. Which means Michael has full control over the lot. He can sell it to whoever he wants, whenever he wants, and no one can stop him. And guess who the developer is paying a $500,000 ‘finder’s fee’ to, if he can get the lot sold before the end of the month?”
She handed me another piece of paper. An email, dated 2 weeks before the poisoning, from the developer’s lawyer to a “M.T.”
The fee is yours the second the deed is signed. No delays. No questions. Make it happen.
I turned to Michael. He was backing away, his face ashen, his hands up like he was surrendering.
“Em,” he said. “I can explain —”
“Explain what?” I screamed. “That you were going to get half a million dollars if my parents died? That you changed their will? That you lied to me about Lila threatening Lily? That you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”
“I didn’t change the will!” he yelled. “Your dad asked me to help him update it! He said he wanted someone he trusted to run the estate if something happened to him and Mom! I didn’t know about the developer! I didn’t know about the fee! Lila’s making this up! She’s still mad about the fight we had 10 years ago! She wants to ruin us!”
“Shut up,” Lila said, pulling out her phone and hitting play on a voice recording. Michael’s voice filled the waiting room, loud and clear:
“Jake, listen to me. You do it right this time. No mistakes. They don’t wake up. And if you pull it off, the money’s yours. All $100,000 of it. Just make it look like Marnie did it. Or Mrs. Hale. Anyone but us.”
The room went silent. Michael stared at Lila, his mouth open, no words coming out. Then he turned and ran.
Two police officers chased after him, but he was too fast. He burst through the emergency exit and was gone.
May you like
I sank onto a chair, the papers falling out of my hands. The man I’d married. The man I’d built a life with. The father of my child. He’d tried to kill my parents. He’d tried to have them smothered in their hospital bed. He’d paid Jake to do it.
And now he was on the run.
