Chapter 86 Time To Pay The Price

Chapter 86 Time To Pay The Price
Marcus’s POV

The room stopped breathing.
That was the only way I could describe it—the way the air went dead and heavy, like every molecule had frozen in place the second Liam’s words landed.
I saw Peter Ramsey shove Marcus’s mother into the lake.
For a moment, I didn’t exist in the police station anymore. I was twelve again.
The hum of fluorescent lights became the buzz of cicadas. The sterile smell of disinfectant turned into damp earth and pine. My knee stopped throbbing, replaced by a cold, hollow ache in my chest that I’d lived with for so long I hadn’t realized it was still open.
“No,” I heard myself say, but it sounded distant, like it came from someone else. “That’s not—”
I couldn’t finish. My hands were shaking. I didn’t even realize how badly until Anna squeezed them, grounding me, anchoring me to the present.
“Marcus,” she whispered.
I stared straight ahead, afraid that if I looked at anyone, I’d break completely. All those years. All those nights replaying that memory over and over—running along the edge of the lake, calling for her, convinced I’d been too slow, that if I’d just gotten there sooner…
“You’re lying,” Peter said sharply.

My father’s voice echoed in my head for a split second before Damian’s hand landed firmly on my shoulder, solid and real.
Liam laughed, broken and raw. “I wish I was.”
I finally looked at him. Really looked. He wasn’t smug. He wasn’t triumphant. He looked wrecked—eyes bloodshot, face pale, shoulders slumped under the weight of something he’d carried since childhood.
“I didn’t understand it at first,” Liam continued, voice shaking. “I just knew it was wrong. She was yelling at him. She told him she wouldn’t be quiet anymore.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs. That sounded like her. My mom had never been quiet when something mattered.
“She drowned,” I whispered, the old lie clawing its way up automatically. “They said she drowned while trying to save Anna who had fallen in.”
Liam shook his head. “No. He shoved her. Hard. She hit the water and went under.”

A sound tore out of my chest before I could stop it—half breath, half pain. Anna’s arm slid around my back instantly, holding me upright when I wasn’t sure I could do it myself.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Damian demanded, his voice rough with fury.
“I was a kid!” Liam shouted back. “And Ramsey made sure I stayed scared. He made sure my dad stayed scared. He told us people who talk end up losing everything.”
The officer was already writing furiously, his calm demeanor gone, replaced by sharp focus.
“How long have you known this?” the officer asked me.
I shook my head slowly. “I didn’t,” I said hoarsely. “I thought it was an accident. I thought—” My throat closed. “I thought I failed her.”
Anna turned toward me fully now. “Marcus.”
I finally met her eyes. And I saw it—pure heartbreak. Rage. And something fierce and protective that made my chest ache even more.
“You didn’t fail anyone,” she said firmly. “He did.”

I nodded, but it felt like my body was lagging behind the truth, struggling to catch up. Images crashed into me without warning—my mom laughing as she adjusted my gear badly, the way she always smelled like lake water and sunscreen in the summers, the way she’d squeezed my shoulders before sending me off to that camp.
Watch out for your brothers, she’d told me.
I hadn’t been able to watch out for her. Or so I’d thought.
“Ramsey hated her,” Liam continued quietly. “She was threatening to expose him. Something about money. About the camp.”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Of course it was about power. It always was.
“Mr. McKay,” the officer said carefully, turning to me, “I know this is a lot to process. But this testimony gives us grounds to reopen the case.”
Reopen. The word echoed loudly in my head.

Peter Ramsey hadn’t just ruined my childhood. He'd ruined Anna's childhood as well. He’d stolen the truth.
I felt something shift inside me—not just grief, but anger. A deep, controlled fury that felt steadier than the chaos I’d lived with for years.
Peter finally spoke, his voice low and lethal. “You’re going to put him away.”
The officer nodded once. “If the evidence supports this, yes.”
If.
I exhaled slowly, forcing air into my lungs. “You’ll find it,” I said. “He never stopped covering his tracks. He never stopped threatening people. He thought he was untouchable.”
Anna squeezed my hand. “Not anymore.”
Liam slumped in his chair, tears finally spilling over. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just wanted it to stop.”
“It stops now,” I said quietly.
Everyone looked at me. Even the officer paused.
I straightened as much as my knee and brace would allow, pain flaring but grounding me. “He used fear to control people. He used my mom’s death to control me, even when I didn’t know it.”
My voice shook—but I didn’t stop.
“That ends now.”
The officer closed his notebook. “We’ll need formal statements. All of you. And we’ll be placing Liam into protective custody.”
Liam nodded numbly.
Courtney wiped her face. Damian wrapped an arm around her while he stood closer to me, like a silent promise I wasn’t alone.
Anna leaned her head against my shoulder, her presence steady and warm.
I let myself feel it then. The grief. The rage. The relief. My mom's death wasn't because of an accident surrounding Anna.
She hadn’t drowned. She’d fought.

And now, finally, the truth was fighting back.
As we were led out of the room, my knee screaming with every step, I realized something I’d never thought possible:
The worst night of my life was no longer just a wound. It was evidence.
And Peter Ramsey was going to answer for it.