He looked at me. For a second, I saw something like defiance in his eyes. Like he thought he could talk his way out of this. Then he saw my face. He got on his knees. Slowly, his dignity hit the floor before he did.
"Chloe? Is that you?"
A voice drifted from the top of the stairs, slick and oily. Caspian stepped into the light of the landing, a glass of scotch in his hand, wearing silk pajamas. His eyes landed on me and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. He looked happy—excited, even.
"You're back." He started down the steps.
I leveled the gun at his throat. "Keep coming, Caspian. Down here. Next to your sister."
His smile faltered.
He didn't go where I told him. Of course he didn't. He thought he had ownership over me. But I wasn't as easy to control as before. His eyes never left me.
"Stop fucking looking at me like that. You make my fucking skin crawl. Are you expecting a thank you?"
He looked confused.
"Pucker up," I yelled.
Before he could react, I swung the heavy steel barrel across his face. The metal shattered his front teeth and split hislip to the bone. He hit the floor clutching his mangled mouth, his eyes wide with a terror that finally matched my own.
Ava and Olivia started whimpering loudly.
I pointed the gun at Caspian. "Don't be like him and try me."
I turned to face all three of them.
"Now I want you all to do what I did for fourteen years," I said. The gun was steady. "Shut up. And listen."
The room was silent except for Arthur's labored breathing and Caspian's muffled groans.
"I was ten years old when you killed my mother," I said, looking at Arthur. "I watched you put your hands on her. I watched you push her off that balcony. And I heard you tell the police she jumped."
Arthur opened his mouth. My sneakered foot connected with his chest. He fell backward, gasping.
"I said shut up."
I turned to Ava.
"You moved into her house. You slept in her bed. You wore her jewelry. You took her name, and you let your brother put his hands on me while you pretended not to notice."
Ava was crying now. I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back.
"You think crying fixes it? You think tears undo fourteen years?"
I let go and turned to Olivia.
"And you. You stole my words. You put your name on them. Half the name isn't even yours—you're not a Landry."
Her head snapped back from the impact of the back of my hand across her cheek. I hit her hard enough to draw blood.
"Chloe, please, don't—" Ava started.
"Shut up. You don't get to say my name. You don't get to do anything except sit there and listen to what you took from me."
I paced in front of them, the gun swinging at my side.
"I missed everything. My childhood. My friends. My prom. Graduation. College."
