Chapter 5 - Cornered Rats
The video looped back to the beginning, but no one was watching the screen anymore. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on Bradley and Heather. I felt a cold, hard strength replace the crushing grief in my chest. I handed Tanya to my sister, who quickly carried the crying child into the backyard so she wouldn't see what was about to happen.
Bradley was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his forehead. “It... it was self-defense!” he stammered, his eyes darting frantically around the room. “She attacked us! You saw it, she was aggressive! It was an accident!”
“An accident?” I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. I had never struck a person in my entire life, but as I looked at the man who murdered my child, my hand swung with a force I didn't know I possessed. My palm cracked against his jaw with a sharp, explosive sound. Bradley stumbled backward, shocked, touching his bruised cheek. “You stood over her body,” I hissed, my voice vibrating with hatred. “You checked her pulse, and then you let your whore steal her jewelry.”
Heather broke towards the back door, trying to make a run for it. But my brother David blocked the exit, crossing his arms. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked coldly.
“Get out of my way!” Heather shrieked, dropping her polished facade entirely. “I didn't touch her! It was him! Bradley pushed her, you saw the tape! I just watched!”
“You shut your mouth, Heather!” Bradley roared, turning on her like a rabid dog. “You were the one who said we had to get rid of her! You said the money would be ours!” They were turning on each other, tearing each other apart like the cowards they were.
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Raymond calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I already hit the send button to the lead detective ten minutes ago,” he said softly. “In fact, if you listen closely, you can hear them arriving.” Through the pouring rain outside, the faint, wailing sound of police sirens began to cut through the neighborhood, growing louder and multiplying. Red and blue lights began to flash through the large living room windows, painting the walls in frantic colors. Bradley fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably for the life of luxury he had just lost.
Heather just stood there, staring blankly at the flashing lights, her hands shaking violently. I walked over to her, reached out, and unhooked the silver star bracelet from her wrist. She didn't try to stop me; she was utterly paralyzed by fear. “You didn't win,” I whispered to her. “You just dug your own grave.”
