Chapter 201 The Ending
Megan's POV
I felt exhausted after hanging up with Nolan. The weight of what we'd planned—what we'd done—pressed down on me. I questioned my true motives: was this really about revenge, or was it about proving I could manipulate people's hearts more effectively than my mother?
I'd chosen the most complex revenge path. Nolan didn't have to die. This all didn't need to be so complicated.
Simon watched me coldly from across the room. "What's your real plan, Megan?"
I looked at him and Emily tiredly. "Haven't you gotten what you wanted?"
When we arrived at the hiding place I had prepared in advance, the rain gradually subsided. Emily was tied to the sofa, her eyes fixed intently on my every move.
"The police won't find us here," I assured Emma, who looked increasingly panicked.
"Are you sure they won't track us down?"
Just as I finished speaking, car engines rumbled outside. I immediately switched off all the lights.
"Did you tell them?" I hissed at Emma.
"We're in the same boat!" she protested. "It must be something that went wrong with Nolan."
I peered through the curtain. Several police cars had surrounded the house.
"We need to split up," I decided quickly. "Simon, take Emma through the underground passage. I'll use Emily as leverage to negotiate—buy you time."
"Megan, let's all go together!" Emma pleaded.
"This isn't the time for sentiment," I said coldly. "We can't all escape."
I turned to Simon. "I won't kill Emily. I promise."
Simon stood silent for several seconds before speaking. "Megan, don't die. I'll come back for you when I'm stronger—strong enough to remove all obstacles."
"Goodbye, Simon," I said softly. From now on, he would face those memories alone.
Simon glanced at Emily one last time, then left with Emma.
I watched the police through the window. They had surrounded the house but were hesitating—knowing Emily was inside.
"You're still Emily Grey, right? Amy is gone—she grew up and disappeared."
Emily remained silent, not answering.
Her eyes widened as I continued, "I've lived in fear my whole life. My mother was a serial killer who manipulated people into committing crimes. I have her criminal genes in me. Now that fear has become reality."
Emily's voice rang out hoarsely: "Why did you kill Sophia?" Her eyes were filled with anger and confusion.
"She was a Grey, and she didn't listen," I explained. "But the bigger truth? Your grandfather funded my mother's research. She used those people to help him eliminate troublesome individuals."
Emily looked shocked beyond words.
"Your grandfather ordered my mother to imprison you and your mom. He didn't want a mentally ill person in his family affecting their reputation." I watched Emily's widening eyes. "And your mother's worsening condition was because Caitlin switched her medication. Caitlin needed leverage to keep extracting benefits from the Grey family."
Emily's expression crumbled, and I felt a twisted satisfaction.
"Ironically," I added, "both my birth mother and my adoptive mother were criminals. I seem to have inherited their criminal genes, both biologically and mentally."
The police spotlight suddenly illuminated the room.
---
Michael's POV
We quickly located their hideout based on the coordinates Daniel provided.
I stood outside, analyzing our limited options as night was falling rapidly. Emily was in there—with Megan Weber holding her hostage—and every second that ticked by could be her last.
"What's our move, Captain?" Daisy asked, her voice tense.
I surveyed the building layout again. No cover for snipers, no good angles. Forcing entry meant putting Emily at immediate risk.
"We're going with a dual approach," I decided. "I'll negotiate through the bullhorn to distract Megan while Team Two scales to the second floor balcony."
After we began the operation, there was movement at the window.
I grabbed the bullhorn. "Megan Weber! This is Michael Stone. We have the building surrounded. Release Emily Grey and come out with your hands up!"
After an excruciating pause, a figure appeared near the window edge—carefully positioned to avoid being an easy target. It was Megan.
"Detective Stone," she called back, her voice eerily calm. "You're going to get in your car and drive me away from here, or I'll kill Emily."
"I understand," I responded immediately, watching the special tactics team beginning their silent ascent to the second floor. "I'll help you leave safely."
My brain caught on a critical detail—she had said "I'll kill Emily" not "we'll kill Emily." Where were the others?
"Listen, Megan," I continued, deliberately using her first name to establish connection. "I need to know that Emily is unharmed."
Silence followed. I could almost feel Megan calculating her next move.
"You need to bring Emily with you when you come out," I said. "I'll have a car waiting. Just you and me—we'll drive away together."
The silence stretched longer this time. Then suddenly:
"STOP!" Megan screamed. "Tell your men to back off NOW! I can hear them upstairs!"
Damn. She'd heard the tactical team.
"I'll kill her right now if they don't get out!" Megan's voice rose.
I raised the bullhorn again. "Ben, Seth, pull back," I ordered, using fake names to issue commands. "Everyone stand down."
The next few moments unfolded in chaotic flashes. A sudden commotion erupted inside. Daisy made her move.
I bolted toward the villa entrance, heart hammering against my ribs.
By the time I reached the front door, Daisy had already freed Emily from her restraints. But what happened next stopped us all cold.
Megan struggled to her feet, a strange smile spreading across her face. Without warning, she plunged her knife deep into her own stomach.
"NO!" Emily screamed, rushing to Megan's side as blood began pooling beneath her.
I stood frozen at the doorway, watching Emily desperately trying to stop the bleeding by pressing her hands against Megan's wound.
"I thought... you were her copy," Megan whispered, her voice growing fainter. "But I was wrong... I'm the copy."
"Don't talk," Emily pleaded. "Help is coming."
"My life is such a joke," Megan continued, blood bubbling at her lips. "I fought so hard against her... only to become her."
"That's not true," Emily insisted, tears streaming down her face. "You've always been yourself."
Megan's eyes, already growing distant, found Emily's. "I was so jealous... that you could forget. That she loved you... not me."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked, her voice breaking.
"Woodvale... was my trap for you," Megan confessed. "Caitlin agreed to go there... if I promised not to hurt you. She knew what I planned... it was her warning... that made you leave."
Emily's face crumpled. She looked at Megan, a painful realization dawning on her. "There was never another personality,"she whispered. "It was always just me. I shouldn't have forgotten you all."
Megan's breathing became more labored, her gaze turning inward as if watching her life unspool before her.
"I once helped a boy... Zack... who loved fire," she murmured. "Told him... it's okay to love fire... become a firefighter... channel it right."
Her bloody fingers weakly gripped Emily's wrist.
"I found the right path once... I could have helped people... without hurting them. But I chose this instead."
A bitter smile crossed her pale lips as her voice grew fainter.
"Spent my life... proving there's no criminal gene... but I couldn't escape my fate."
Her final words were barely audible: "Mom was wrong... I didn't become a criminal. The law... can't judge... the dead."
Then Megan Weber closed her eyes for the last time.
Emily collapsed beside Megan's body, her hands coated in blood. I rushed to her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form, feeling her entire body convulse with sobs.
"I've got you," I whispered into her hair. "I've got you now."
She looked up at me, attempting a smile that broke my heart. "I'm fine," she whispered before her eyes rolled back and she went limp in my arms.
---
The rest of the team searched the villa and discovered a hidden underground passage in the storage room. Simon Wallace had escaped that way. We also found extensive files—both paper and digital—documenting Caitlin Weber's collaboration with Lewis Powell on illegal psychological experiments.
The villa itself contained several soundproofed rooms where Caitlin had likely conducted her twisted "therapy" sessions with victims.
Two days later, Emma turned herself in, confessing her role in Emily's kidnapping. When I told her Megan had died, she sat in silence for several minutes before speaking again.
"If I had stayed with her," she finally said, "maybe she wouldn't have killed herself."
Simon Wallace remained missing. Emma claimed they'd separated after fleeing the villa, and she believed he'd stuck to their original plan to escape abroad. Despite issuing alerts, we found no trace of him.
---
Emily's POV
I woke up in a hospital room, feeling like I was swimming through fog. Everything seemed distant, separated from me by an invisible barrier.
"Emily!"
I turned my head to see Thomas trying to rush to my bed, only to be held back by Daisy.
"Easy there," she teased. "Michael hasn't even hugged her yet."
One by one, they approached. Michael embraced me, his warmth anchoring me to reality.
"It's over," he whispered. "You're safe now."
Lucas spoke next. "You scared us to death. We can't lose another family member."
Daisy joked, "I lost five pounds worrying about you. Not the diet plan I'd recommend."
Thomas approached last. "Emily, without you, nobody understands my humor."
Gradually, the fog between me and the world began to lift. I was back. I was home.
---
A week later, Michael and I walked together through Riverstone's streets. Though discharged from the hospital, I still felt somewhat disconnected from reality.
"I used to pretend I was different kinds of creatures, like spiders," I told Michael, finally sharing my complete truth. "Turns out I was the mental patient all along. No wonder I was so good at playing spider at Woodvale."
Michael's hand found mine. "I think spider-you is pretty adorable."
"What if I slip back into that state someday?" I asked, voicing my deepest fear.
"Then I'll love that version of you too," he said simply. "I'll love whatever version of you exists."
"When did you fall in love with me?" I asked, curious.
"Not sure," he smirked. "But it must have been early on since I don't usually let people boss me around."
I laughed. "I think I fell for you at that fireworks night. You looked so handsome then."
His fingers tightened around mine as we walked toward whatever future awaited us.
"Since we can't change the past," I said, "we might as well keep moving forward."
"The psychological wounds that make us sad and desperate," Michael added softly, "they'll eventually be left behind."
"Time heals everything," I whispered. "And so does love."