“Mom was bleeding and bruised when it was over.” I closed my eyes briefly. “My sister and I were terrified and crying our eyes out, and we wanted to leave. But she told us it had only happened that one time. She said it was because Neil was stressed from his job, and she’d made him angry.”
The chamber was completely silent now.
“She promised she'd leave if it ever happened again.” I opened my eyes, staring at a point on the wall. “We believed her because we were too young to know any better. But over the next year, we got better at noticing things. The makeup patterns. The way she flinched. The arguments at night when she thought we were asleep.” The words came faster now, pushed out by the serum. “We realized it had been happening all along. Neil had been beating our mother regularly. And she was too afraid to leave or call the police because he told her he'd come after us—her girls—if she ever tried.”
I could feel my face flushing hot, shame and old rage mixing together.
“She stayed. She hid the bruises with makeup. She tried to act like everything was normal so we wouldn't be scared,” I went on.
Roman's expression had grown darker. He knew what came next.
“Then one day, during a fight, Neil pushed her down the stairs.” My voice dropped. “She broke multiple bones. He told the doctors it was an accident; that she slipped and fell. She completely backed him up. But my sister and I knew the truth. We knew she could've died, and we knew it was only a matter of time until it happened again. We also knew she'd never tell the police what really happened, because she was too terrified of what he'd do to us. So nothing would ever happen to Neil unless...” I trailed off, then pushed forward. “Unless we did something ourselves.”
The serum wouldn't let me stop now.
“We talked about it. Made a plan. We acted like we had no idea what had really happened with the stairs. Like everything was fine.” My hands were shaking. “Then we told Neil we wanted to play 'witches' and make magic potions in the kitchen. Just mixing up whatever we found in the fridge and cupboards.”
I could picture it so clearly. His indulgent smile. The way he'd ruffled my hair.
“He thought it was cute. Told us to go ahead and have fun. So we made a bunch of different concoctions. Orange juice and mustard, milk and barbecue sauce, ketchup and coffee.” A bitter smile touched my lips. “We made him taste each one, and he played along because he always did. Always acted like the great, supportive stepdad.”
My voice had gone flat now, emotionless.
“Then he drank the last one. All of it, because we made it taste pretty good. Lemonade mixed with strawberry syrup, cinnamon…” I paused. “And rat poison from the garage.”
I heard one of the girls gasp behind me. Someone shushed her immediately.
“It took him a long time to die.” The serum made me speak the words without inflection, like I was reciting a grocery list. “We waited until we were sure it was too late. Then we called 911.”
I finally looked at the Council directly.
“We told everyone we couldn't remember exactly what we'd put in our 'magic potions.' Just stuff we grabbed from everywhere. We also said that we'd told Neil he shouldn't drink any of them, but he must've misheard us and thought we were saying heshould.” I swallowed. “We cried hysterically. Really sold the performance. And we were just kids, so everyone genuinely believed it was a tragic accident.”
The chamber was deathly quiet.
“They never suspected two little girls of murder, and our mother never questioned it, either.”
I took a shaky breath.
“So… that's my secret,” I said. “When I was a child, my sister and I poisoned our mother's abusive boyfriend and made it look like an accident.”
The silence in the chamber stretched for another moment.
When I glanced at Julian, he was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite interpret. Something between anger and approval with a dash of something else that almost looked like respect. Or maybe that was just the serum making me see things that weren't there.
The Council member who'd been leading the ritual finally nodded. “Your confession is recorded. You may step back.”
I stumbled away from the altar, my legs barely holding me up. An attendant guided me to the side where the other girls stood, all of us looking shell-shocked and hollow.
The first part of the trial was over. Our darkest secrets had been recorded and filed away, ready to be used against us if we ever betrayed the Club.
But the night wasn’t over yet.
“The confessions are complete,” the Council member announced. “Now, each of you will be escorted to a private chamber for the sacred coupling.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. The truth serum was still coursing through my system, making everything feel heightened and raw. I watched as the first girl was led away through a side door, then the second, then the third.
Then it was my turn. An attendant gestured for me to follow him, and I did, my feet moving automatically even as my mind raced.
