19
Katherine, barely conscious from the pain, caught the hatred burning in Terry’s eyes. In that moment, she knew her schemes had crumbled.
With nothing left to lose, she broke down in hysterics.
“You think you’re innocent, Terry?” she spat through tears.
“Wendy told you she was sick, but where were you? Vacationing with me!”
“The day she died, she called you over and over. You called her a ‘harbinger of death, remember?”
“While she was dying, you were planning our candlelit dinner.”
“And stopping her mother’s medical care? That was your call too.”
“Face it, you chose to believe me!”
Each word cut Terry like a knife.
His eyes turned savage, his grip on the blade tightening as rage consumed
him.
He stabbed Katherine’s shoulder again. If not for the others restraining him, he might have finished her off right there.
“You’re right,” Terry muttered, dropping the knife.
“We’re both monsters.”
I watched their vicious exchange coldly. Even if they tore each other to shreds, it wouldn’t ease the hatred in my heart.
20
Katherine languished in a dark basement, barely kept alive on watery
gruel.
Her untreated shoulder wound festered, filling the air with a sickening
stench.
At first, she screamed for help, but her cries echoed in the emptiness.
Despair crept in, leaving her utterly alone.
I wondered if this was how I felt after death.
When she’d suggested cutting off my mother’s medical care, I’d felt that same crushing hopelessness.
On Terry’s next visit, Katherine was barely lucid.
Too weak to beg, she lay on the floor, her eyes vacant.
PART 2