We… we can find a small apartment again, can we not?

We… we can find a small apartment again, can we not?
Violet’s pov

The nausea in my stomach was a living thing as I watched the professor fight to keep his composure. Beside him, my mother had gone a frightening, bloodless shade of white.

“Bennett,” she breathed. “What… what are you saying?”

He turned and seized her hand, but her fingers lay limp and cold in his grasp, like a dead sparrow. “My dear, I swear to you, it was a terrible accident…”

My mother wrenched her hand back. “An accident.” Her voice was thin enough to snap. “Like when I put almond milk in the sauce was an accident?”

The older man nodded, a frantic, desperate motion. “Yes, precisely. We went to speak with Brian, just to talk to him one last time, to try and make him see reason. I knew he would be difficult, so I brought Mike with me, just to add a little persuasion, you understand…”

“Mike?” I repeated, my blood running cold. “Mike Manfreidi, the corrupt cop?”

Nash shifted his weight in the doorway. “Oh, I nearly forgot to mention… Manfreidi is the professor’s second cousin.”

I blinked. Nothing could shock me now. If Nash had declared Manfreidi was Bennett’s secret son, I would have simply accepted it. I saw Richard and Michael exchange one of their silent, twin looks. Clearly, the news that they were related to that weasel in cowboy boots was a surprise to them, too.

I turned my focus back to the professor. “So you brought your cousin to intimidate my father into accepting a bribe? And then what? You accidentally held a gun to his throat and pulled the fucking trigger?”

“It was not me!” Bennett shouted, lunging from his chair. Before I could even process the movement, Nash had crossed the room, caught Bennett by the arm, and wrenched it behind his back. “Release me, you bastard!” Bennett struggled, but with one expert twist of his wrist, Nash had him pinned and helpless.

Bennett stood there, bent over and gasping for air. “He was not supposed to fire the weapon. He was only meant to frighten Brian a little, to convince him it was better for everyone if he just accepted the deal…” He made a choked, gurgling sound. “Mike told me the gun was not even loaded!”

That was my limit. My stomach revolted, and I scrambled from my chair. I only made it a few steps before I was vomiting onto the floor. Luckily, there was nothing in my stomach but water. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight. Michael was already behind me, his hand rubbing my back. But I could feel the angry tremors running through his fingers. He was holding onto his control by a thread.

“So, let us review,” Bentley said, holding up a hand and counting off on his fingers until he ran out. “We have falsifying records, obstruction of justice, conspiracy to commit murder, accessory to the murder of Dr. Brian Blair, the attempted murder of Violet Blair, fraud, deliberate and malicious deception, conspiracy to impersonate a medical professional… I am certain the District Attorney will think of a few more.”

My mother was still staring at Bennett, her face a mask of horror. Her mouth opened and closed several times without a sound. “You… you killed him! You murdered my husband!”

“It was not me!” Bennett snarled again. “I told you, it was an accident, the situation escalated—”

“But… he was your best friend!” my mother cried out.

“He was a fool!” Bennett barked, his voice devoid of any remorse.

My mother’s hands clamped onto the edge of the table, her knuckles bone-white. “Brian… Brian never had an affair with Tammy Duncan, did he?”

Bennett stared at her in disbelief, as if he could not fathom her bringing up the old lie after everything that had been exposed. And I knew from the look on his face, there had never been an affair. He and Mike Manfreidi had invented it to plant suspicion in my mother’s vulnerable, impressionable mind.

Bennett simply shook his head. “Of course not. You know Brian worshiped the very ground you walked on.”

My mother rose to her feet, her movements slow and strangely graceful. “Was all of this part of your scheme?” she asked, her hand sweeping around the room. “Why did you pursue me, Bennett? Why did you ask me to live with you? Was it just to keep watch over me and my daughter? To ensure we would never uncover your filthy secret?”

“No! No, Evelyn, I truly care for you. I love you, I have… I have been in love with you for a very long time…”

The sickness churned in my gut again. “Just how long, Professor?”

Bennett clamped his mouth shut, and that silence confirmed everything. He had coveted my mother while my father was still breathing. Perhaps that was another reason my father was now dead.

Richard stood up slowly. I could see the immense effort it took for him to remain still. He stared at his father for a long, hard moment, then shook his head in slow disappointment. “I have nothing to say to you. I do not even know who you are anymore.”

Michael wrapped his arms around me, and I sensed he was trying to calm his own rage as much as he was comforting me. “This is fucking sick,” he growled. Then his eyes cut to Nash, who still held Bennett. “Did you get all of that?”

Nash released Bennett, shoving him so hard the man stumbled and fell to his knees beside the chair. Nash reached into his pocket and pulled out a sophisticated-looking recording device. “This is top-tier military hardware. It could pick up a cockroach farting from two hundred meters away.”

“Well, I believe my work here is complete,” Bentley Brooks announced with a satisfied sigh. He gathered his papers and slid them back into his file. “Since the local police are clearly compromised, I will be taking this evidence directly to the state police barracks. I know a few men there who will be very interested in this case.” He placed the file in his briefcase and stood. “You boys should probably keep an eye on the old man. Make sure he does not get any clever ideas before they arrive.”

Bennett remained on his knees, one hand braced on the seat of the chair, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on nothing.

Richard’s shoulders slumped. “Nash?”

“I am on it.” Nash gave the professor a wide, predatory grin. “Looks like I am your new roommate for the night, Professor Williams.”

My mother shuddered and pushed away from the table. “I… I must go and pack…” She turned her eyes to me, her gaze desperate. “Violet… let us go. We… we can find a small apartment again, can we not? I will have our old furniture brought out of storage, and we will start over…”

I took a step back, pressing myself more deeply into Michael’s side. “No.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “Wh-what?”

Michael’s arm became a steel band around me, lending me his resolve. “I am not going with you this time, Mom.”

“But!” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch. “You… you cannot be serious! You heard everything! It was Bennett… it was the therapist he sent me to, the fake one! He was the one who told me to give you that food!”

I gave her a long, sorrowful look. “Bennett did not pour the almond milk into my food, Mom. No one pinned your arms and forced you to do something you knew would hurt me.” I shook my head slowly. “You need help, Mom. Real help. And until you get it, I cannot be near you.” I drew a shaky, ragged breath. “Please, take care of yourself. Despite everything… I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

“Violet!” my mother wailed, her voice cracking. “Do not do this to me! Do not leave me! Do not leave me alone!”

I turned and started walking toward the door. Michael walked with me, his hand a steady, warm pressure on my back. I felt Richard moving close behind us.

My mother screamed, but I did not look back.