Chapter 4 - The Escape Attempt
“Stay here, Alex,” Miller barked, drawing his service weapon and rushing out of the bedroom toward the stairs.
I didn't listen. I followed right behind him, my hand clenched into a fist so tight my knuckles turned white.
When we reached the top of the stairs, looking down into the foyer, the scene unfolding below was pure chaos. Derek had managed to shove one of the younger deputies into the coat rack, sending winter coats and umbrellas tumbling everywhere. He was sprinting toward the back kitchen door, desperately trying to make a break for the family’s old pickup truck idling in the driveway.
My mother was screaming hysterically at the top of her lungs, throwing herself onto another officer in a desperate attempt to block his path. “Let my son go! You have no right! This is police brutality!”
Aunt Beatrice stood by the open front door, her phone pressed tightly to her ear, speaking in a frantic, hushed whisper into the receiver. “Mr. Vance! You need to intervene right now! The local police are out of control! If Derek talks, everything we planned with the land development contracts will come down!”
Hearing that name—Mr. Vance, my boss, the man who had deliberately sent me on a fabricated, high-security logistics assignment three hundred miles away precisely when this was scheduled to happen—ignited a blind, volcanic rage inside me.
He knew.
My boss hadn't just assigned me a routine job; he had weaponized my career to get me out of the way so my family could execute Clara without interference.
Before Deputy Chief Miller could even fire a warning shot, I vaulted over the wooden banister of the second-floor landing, dropping straight down into the foyer with a heavy thud. I landed squarely on my feet, rolled to absorb the impact, and intercepted Derek just as he slammed his hand onto the back door handle.
Derek turned around, his eyes wide with animalistic panic, his face twisted in a snarl. He swung a heavy metal wrench he had grabbed from the kitchen counter straight at my head.
I ducked instinctively, feeling the rush of wind as the wrench grazed my ear. Without missing a beat, I drove my fist straight into his stomach with every ounce of grief, betrayal, and fury I had accumulated over the past three days.
The impact knocked the wind out of him with a loud, desperate gasp. Derek crumpled to his knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for air. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, hauled him up to his feet, and slammed him against the kitchen wall so hard the dishes on the shelves rattled.
“You coward,” I hissed into his face, my voice shaking with a terrifying stillness. “You killed her. You killed the mother of my child over dirt?”
“Alex! Stop!” Deputy Chief Miller shouted, rushing over and pulling me back. “Don't ruin your life by beating a confession out of him. Let the law handle it. He’s going away for a very long time.”
Miller signaled to the backup officers who had just swarmed through the front door. Two officers rushed forward, slapping heavy steel handcuffs onto Derek’s wrists and shoving him down onto the living room sofa.
At the same time, another officer gently pried the phone out of Aunt Beatrice’s hand as she tried to disconnect her call with Mr. Vance.
“Aunt Beatrice,” Miller said coldly, snapping handcuffs onto her wrists as well. “You’re under arrest as an accessory to murder and obstruction of justice. Teresa, you too—step away from the door and put your hands behind your back.”
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My mother let out a shrill, piercing shriek that echoed across the quiet township of Silver Creek, collapsing onto the Persian rug in the living room as the cold steel bracelets locked around her wrists.
The house that had once felt like home was now officially a crime scene. But as I stood in the center of the living room, looking down at Lily, who was watching everything with wide, solemn eyes, I knew the battle was only just beginning. The local police had arrested my family, but the man pulling the strings from the shadows—my boss, Mr. Vance—was still sitting comfortably in his office in Columbus, completely unaware of the storm that was about to hit him.
