Chapter 48 Chapter 48
I didn't wait for Jace to finish. I shoved past him, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The hallway felt longer than usual, the shadows of the Family-style portraits of my ancestors—or at least, the framed photos of my mom’s happy life—feeling like they were closing in.
The sound of voices drifted up the stairs. My mom’s voice was high and nervous, the way it got when she was trying to "keep the peace." Zayelle’s dad, had a voice like a low rumble of thunder. But cutting through it all was the sharp, jagged edge of Marvin’s laughter.
I reached the landing and looked down into the foyer.
It was a nightmare in high-definition. Marvin was leaning against our hall table, his arms crossed, looking entirely too comfortable in our home. Beside him stood Jacinta; she had stopped crying, but her eyes were red and she was staring at the floor as if she wanted it to swallow her whole.
"I’m just saying, Marcus," Marvin was saying, his voice smooth and dripping with fake concern. "You should know who’s really sleeping under your roof. My brother has a way of making people see what he wants them to see. Right, Jace?"
Jace appeared behind me on the stairs, his presence a cold weight. "Get out of this house, Marvin. Now."
My mom stepped forward, her hands twisting her apron. "Jace, honey, Marvin was just telling us about your old school. About… a girl named Maya? He says there was a police report."
"Mom, don't," I said, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs. I stepped between Marvin and my mother. "Marvin is a bully. He’s been making my life hell for months, and now he’s bringing his mess into our house because he’s mad at his brother."
Marvin’s eyes flicked to me. The malice in them was palpable. "Oh, Cass. Still playing the victim? Did Jace tell you about the locker? Did he tell you he tried to get his own twin arrested for a felony just to look like a hero?"
"He did it because you were destroying a girl's life!" Zayelle’s voice rang out from the top of the stairs. She was standing there, her hands clenched into fists. "I saw you, Marvin! I lived next door! I saw you following her. I saw the way Maya looked when she thought you were around. Jace was the only one trying to stop the monster you are."
The room went deathly silent. Marcus looked at his daughter, then at Marvin. The air shifted. The "friendly neighbor" vibe was gone, replaced by a protective, fatherly rage.
"Is this true?" Marcus asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Were you stalking a girl?"
Marvin didn't flinch. He just smirked. "Stalking is a strong word. I was observant. Jace was the one who played dirty. He’s the one who planted the evidence. Ask him, Marcus. Ask your 'perfect' future son-in-law if he thinks it’s okay to frame innocent people to get what he wants."
"You weren't innocent!" Jace roared, lunging down the last few steps.
Marcus stepped in between them, his large frame a physical barrier. "That’s enough. Both of you. Out. Now."
"But Marcus—" Marvin started.
"Now!" Marcus bellowed. He pointed at the door. "And Jacinta, I think you should go home too. This isn't your fight."
Jacinta looked at me, a flash of pure, unadulterated shame in her eyes, and bolted out the door. Marvin followed, but not before leaning in close to Marcus.
"You can kick me out," Marvin whispered, loud enough for all of us to hear. "But you’re still living with the guy who knows how to hide the bodies. Sleep tight."
The door slammed shut.
The silence that followed was heavy and agonizing. My mom looked like she was about to faint. Marcus was breathing hard, his face flushed. And Jace… Jace looked like he had been hollowed out.
"Jace," Marcus said, turning to him. "I think you should go too. For tonight. We need to talk as a family."
"Marcus, please," Jace said, his voice cracking. "I only did it to save her."
"I believe you," Marcus said, his voice softer but firm. "But the fact that you thought framing your brother was the answer… it tells me you’re more like him than you want to admit. Go home. Talk to your father."
Jace looked at me. He was waiting for me to say something. To defend him. To tell him it was okay.
But I couldn't. I kept seeing the two of them in my head—Marvin the fire, Jace the cold. One broke you with noise, the other broke you with silence. Both of them used the people around them as weapons.
"Go, Jace," I whispered.
He didn't argue. He turned and walked out into the night, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness.
Zayelle came down the stairs and stood next to me. We didn't speak. We just watched the empty driveway.
My mom finally broke the silence. "I’m going to go lie down." She looked at Marcus. "We’ll talk in the morning?"
Marcus nodded, his hand resting on Zayelle’s shoulder. "Go on, honey. I’ll clean up."
When they were gone, it was just Zayelle and me in the foyer.
"He’s not going to stop," Zayelle said, staring at the closed door. "Marvin. He’s like a dog with a bone. Now that he’s tasted blood, he’s going to come back."
"Let him come," I said, a strange, cold calm settling over me. "I’m tired of being afraid of him. And I’m tired of being protected by Jace."
"What are you going to do?"
I looked at the hall table where Marvin had been leaning. He’d left something behind. A small, crumpled piece of paper. I picked it up and smoothed it out.
It was a photo. An old one. Of a girl with bright eyes and a wide smile. Maya. On the back, in jagged handwriting, were three words:
Ask about the attic.
"I’m going to find out what really happened to Maya," I said. "Because I don't think either of them told us the whole truth."