Chapter 187

Emily's POV

"I'm done for," I said flatly, curled up on Michael's couch.

Michael handed me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me. We had been talking for several hours.

"The evidence pointing to me is mounting," I continued, counting points on my fingers. "Sophia's company was funded with Grey family money. That burnt-down clinic was owned by my family. And my last meeting with Ruby was on the same day Alicia committed suicide." I looked up at Michael. "And there's that email. If Ruby is going to identify the killer, it's definitely going to be me, right?"

"It looks that way," Michael admitted.

"But why? Why go to all this trouble to frame me?" I ran my hands through my tangled hair.

Megan might want to destroy me out of revenge for her mother. But why would Simon help Megan?

Michael leaned forward. "They likely had a genuine reformation program, but our investigation interrupted their plans. To stop us and get revenge, they carefully designed this plot to frame you."

"What about the Powell family's involvement?" I asked.

"Probably Megan Weber's doing. With their political influence, you could end up in prison even without solid evidence."

"We should talk to Chief Finch. Powell has influence, but this is still Finch's jurisdiction," Michael thoughtfully rubbed his chin.

I nodded, but my thoughts were already moving in another direction.

"I think the conspiracy against me began before we even knew about the reformation program. From the moment Simon approached Sophia, they were setting me up."

I traced the timeline in my head. "Simon killed his grandfather through Juliet, gained control of the Wallace family assets, and most likely used all the money to fund Megan Weber's plans."

"I'm starting to think even Ruby's survival wasn't accidental," I added.

Michael watched me intently. "What if their conspiracy started when Professor Weber had her mental breakdown? Given your relationship, they knew you would visit her, maybe even stay at Woodvale with her for a while."

"If I stayed there too long..." my voice trailed off.

"You might have been reformed too, right?" Michael finished my thought.

A memory flashed through my mind - Caitlin's warning: "Emily, you can't stay here. My web will catch you."

"Was Caitlin lucid then?" I wondered aloud. "Was she forced to pretend to be insane?"

"When I picked you up from Woodvale Mental Health Center, I noticed something strange about you," Michael said.

When I first left Woodvale, I often remembered past events and fearful spiders in my dreams. But as time passed, this fear gradually disappeared.

"So I was influenced while at Woodvale, and that influence diminished after I left."

"But why try to reform you?" Michael asked, confused. "What would that accomplish?"

Another memory surfaced: "Caitlin told me she would use her web to kill, and she accurately predicted when those people would die." I looked up at Michael, my mind racing. "Was she trying to get me to leave Woodvale by using those cases?"

"But how would she know when the killer would strike?" Michael asked.

I stared at the wall, feeling like I'd found a clue to this puzzle, only to discover it was tangled in a nearly impenetrable knot.

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Based on Ruby's testimony alone, they won't be able to charge you with anything," Michael said, his voice calm and analytical as he paced in the living room. "They must have prepared other evidence."

"We need to go on the offensive," he continued, stopping to look at me. "Find evidence of their crimes before they can fabricate more against you."

"Do you think that's possible?" I asked.

Michael nodded. "No matter how meticulously they've planned, they've left holes. The more complex their plan, the more vulnerabilities they've created."

I hugged my knees to my chest, a question burning inside me. "Michael, will you always believe me?" My voice came out smaller than I intended.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. His simple, direct answer carried more weight than a thousand promises.

"But you're a detective. You're supposed to believe evidence."

"Evidence can be manufactured." His eyes met mine. "I've always believed in you."

Michael sat beside me, his shoulder touching mine. I knew he considered himself a purely rational person, but no one is completely rational.

"I should get some sleep," I said, feeling the exhaustion of the day.

"Go sleep. I'll stay with you," Michael promised.

I fell asleep on the couch. Through the fog of sleep, I felt Michael lift me up and carry me to the bed. He held my hand, his touch like an anchor, securing me against the coming storm.

---

I sat in an interrogation room, the cold metal chair biting into my thighs. Across the table sat Megan, her lips curved into a predatory smile, and beside her, Simon stared at me as if I were a stranger.

"You're guilty, Emily," Megan pronounced.

"I haven't committed any crime," I insisted, my heart racing.

"Have you forgotten? Or are you just lying?" She leaned forward. "You'll stay here forever, until you remember."

The room plunged into darkness. I felt completely alone, suffocating in this familiar darkness that seemed to crawl from deep in my memory. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

"No!" I screamed, jerking awake.

Michael was instantly beside me, his warm hand grasping mine. "Nightmare?"

I nodded, breathing rapidly. "Just a nightmare. I'm fine."

But I wasn't fine. The dream had made me more uneasy.