SHE WORE MY MOTHER'S CLOTHES, LIVED IN MY HOUSE, AND CALLED MY HUSBAND BY HIS PET NAME

The front foyer plunged into an unnatural, suffocating quiet that felt heavier than any shout or argument. Maya froze, her small hands gripping the edge of the wooden banister so tightly her knuckles turned paper-white. Downstairs, the heavy oak front door creaked open, the sound of retreating footsteps crunching rapidly across the gravel driveway before fading into the distance.

“Daddy?” Maya called out, her voice cracking with a sudden, overwhelming wave of terror. She tried to dart past Sarah toward the staircase, but a hand shot out like a steel vice, catching her by the shoulder and spinning her around.

“Stay where you are,” Sarah commanded, her tone dropping all pretense of warmth. The polished facade was entirely gone, replaced by the hardened edge of a criminal cornered. She still held the heavy glass vase in her left hand, the base smeared with a dark, wet stain that hadn't been there a moment ago.

Maya looked down past Sarah’s red pencil skirt, straining her eyes to see over the edge of the landing. Stretched out motionless across the herringbone hardwood floor of the foyer was Marcus, his brown suit jacket stained with a widening pool of crimson near his temple. His well-groomed beard was dusted with shards of broken glass from the entryway table, and his right arm lay twisted at an unnatural, lifeless angle.

“You hurt him!” Maya screamed, the grief and rage finally breaking through her shock as she lashed out, small fists pounding against Sarah’s chest. “You killed my daddy! You took my mummy and now you killed my daddy!”

Sarah didn’t even flinch under the blows. She caught Maya’s wrists with one hand, effortlessly neutralizing the child’s desperate assault, and hauled her upward with terrifying ease.

“I didn’t lift a finger against him,” Sarah hissed into the little girl’s face, her breath smelling of sharp mint and old secrets. “He tripped over his own pathetic ambitions. He brought this house of cards down upon his own head. And now, sweet Maya, it’s just you and me.”

Before Maya could scream again, a sharp flash of blue and red light washed across the soaring living room windows, painting the luxury interior in the strobe-like warnings of an incoming police cruiser.