At My Brother’s Wedding, His Mother-in-Law Slapped Me and I Collapsed—But the Mysterious Phone Beside My Face Lit Up With a Terrifying Message: “WHY IS SHE STILL ALIVE?”

*Bang.*

The gunshot deafened the room.

A sharp spray of crimson dotted my face.

I waited for the impact, waited for the cold darkness to swallow me.

It didn't come.

In front of me, Victoria staggered sideways, gasping, her hand flying to her chest where a dark stain was rapidly spreading across the pristine cashmere of her coat.

Behind her, Grant sat on the floor, holding the small backup revolver he had retrieved from the hidden false bottom of David’s safe.

Smoke curled lazily from the barrel.

His hand was shaking violently, tears washing tracks through the grime on his face.

"Grant..." Victoria choked out, falling to her knees, staring at her son with disbelief. "You... you little coward..."

"I was a coward," Grant whispered, his voice cracking with a sob. "I let you ruin Dad. I let you turn me into a monster. But I won't let you touch Claire. Not anymore."

Victoria collapsed onto the Persian rug, her silver pistol clattering against the baseboard. She gasped for air once, twice, and then her eyes rolled back into her head, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Dead.

Grant dropped the revolver. It hit the floor with a dull thud.

He leaned his head back against the safe, sobbing uncontrollably, his chest heaving. "Claire... I’m sorry. God, Claire, I’m so sorry. I didn't know she was going to kill you... she told me the succinylcholine was just enough to cause a coma... she said we’d settle the trust and wake you up..."

I walked across the room, picked up Victoria’s silver gun, and checked the chamber. One round was loaded.

I pointed it at Grant’s chest.

He looked up at the barrel, his eyes red and hollow. He didn't flinch.

"Go ahead," Grant whispered, closing his eyes. "Do it. I deserve it. I almost killed you. I almost took Maisie’s mother away."

My finger rested against the cold steel of the trigger.

Every instinct in my body screamed to pull it. For the poison. For the fear in Maisie’s eyes. For the lies that had poisoned our entire family for generations.

"No," I said, lowering the weapon.

Grant opened his eyes, confused.

"Death is an easy way out, Grant," I said, cold disgust dripping from every syllable. "You’re going to sit right there. You’re going to wait for Miller and the state police. And you are going to spend the next forty years in a federal penitentiary telling the world exactly what you and Victoria did."