The ticking of the large gold clock is the only sound that fills the room before my father stands so suddenly from his chair, it rocks back and goes over, slamming against the floor.
“What did you just say?”
“Are you deaf or just ignorant?” I sneer.
“Howdareyou!?” My mother hisses.
I laugh at her, “Get over yourself, mother.”
“Marly,” Liam warns.
“No,” I yell. “I am done. You’re not getting away with this anymore. I’m not going to stand by and watch this. Do you hear me?”
“And what are you going to do, Marly bug?” My father asks, his tone calm when his face says otherwise. He’s gone bright red and the way his hands are clenched suggests he wants to hit something. I’m on the other side of the table and far quicker than he is.
I slap the folder down on the table, “I have all the evidence so I’m going to give you a chance to do what is right.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” My father continues, seeming to try and calm himself, “Are you feeling well, Marly?”
“Don’t even try it,” I snap, “I’ve seen the videos. I watched Liam set fire to that barn and watch a man burn to cover his tracks,yourtracks. I saw the trails of money you tried to hide when you paid off the police and fire chiefs to make this go away. I saw the other fires. You are so controlled by the number in your bank account, you don’t care whose life you ruin to grow that figure. And you need to pay for what you have done.”
“It’s that same money buying your clothes, financing your car, keeping you pretty,” My mother stands cooly, “Let’s not forget that.”
“I don’t care. Take it all. Have it. I don’t want it.”
I watch the three of them, my hand resting on the folder, “I am allowing you grace,” I tell them, “To come clean or I will do it for you.”
“You will ruin this family!” My mother screams.
“This family was ruined before I was even born!” I yell back.
My mother walks toward me, thunder in her eyes but I don’t back down, glaring at her.
“I will tell them all,” I warn them, nothing but truth in my words, “I will not stop until this ends.”
“Give me that,” My mother snatches the folder from under my hand, catching me off guard for a second even though I knew they would take it. I planned for it. What I didn’t expect was the sudden backhand to my face.
My head whips to the side as pain bursts in my cheekbone and toward my eye socket, already knowing by the tickle that works down my cheek that her fat diamond has cut me.
She grabs my hair, “I will not let you do this.” My scalp burns as she yanks my hair, pulling my head back.
“Della,” My father calls off my mother and she drops my hair, shoving me into the table. She marches back to my father and hands him the folder. Lifting my head, I see the three of them looking at me in contempt.
“I think you should go to your room, Marly,” He tells me as if speaking to a five-year-old and not a grown ass woman, “Think about what you have done.”
“Over my dead fucking body will I spend another moment in this house with you.”
There’s sudden movement as I turn to leave, and I know they want their hands on me. So, I run, I run as fast as I possibly can and throw open the door, beelining it for my car. I get in, hit the button to lock the doors and start the engine just as my brother comes careening out the door, straight to my car. He tries the handle first but when he finds it locked, he starts punching his fist against my window, unable to get through before I reverse at speed, leaving him stumbling after my car.
When he realizes I have no intention to stop, he makes a move for his Porsche only to find the surprise I left him. The two front tires sag thanks to the slashes I put into them, and my parent’s car will take another few minutes to get free and even when it is, his car is blocking the way.
By the time they’re able to, I’ll be long gone, and they won’t find me where I am going.
I pull up to the gates an hour later and punch in the code printed on the paperwork I’d collected from the attorney that morning along with the keys. The house is stunning, a cute cottage stylewith ivy climbing over the walls and wisteria on the porch set on about four acres of land. It could fit on my father’s estate six times over, but it looks like it’s been well maintained in the months my grandmother has been gone. The lawn is a lush green, and trees border the property and there’s a modest two vehicle garage attached to the side of the house.
Pulling to a stop in front of one, I climb out, clutching the key so hard it bites into my palm, and I don’t realize I’m shaking until I lift it to unlock the front door.
It smells fresh and clean inside, fully furnished with modern furniture throughout. Dropping the key to the console table, I notice a cream-colored envelope waiting for me, my name scrawled across the front.
