Chapter 7 - The Ten-Year Mask
Z
I froze in the center of the bedroom, holding Leo tightly against my chest. The rain beat mercilessly against the glass windows behind me.
"Mark... please," I sobbed, my voice breaking. "It's me. It's Kathryn. Your wife. This is Leo. Your son."
Mark took a slow step into the room. The yellow beam of a streetlamp from outside illuminated half his face—he looked like a ghost, a stranger who had stolen my husband’s skin.
"I loved you, Ket," Mark said, his tone shockingly calm, almost conversational. "I really did. For the first five years, it wasn't even about the money. You were sweet, quiet, easy to manage. But your mother... she was always watching me. She knew I had debts from my past. She knew Julian was coming for us."
"You helped them fake her death," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. "You let me mourn her. You watched me cry every single night for three months, Mark! I held that scarf and wept until my eyes bled!"
"Because you had to sell it to the federal prosecutors, Kathryn!" Mark snapped, his composure slipping for a second as he pointed the gun directly at my chest. "If you didn't look broken, if you didn't look like a grieving daughter, the marshals would have investigated further! They would have found the offshore accounts! I did it to keep us safe!"
"Safe?!" I shrieked. "You brought a killer into our home! You let Julian put his hands on our son!"
"Julian is a dog on a leash!" Mark barked. "I controlled him! I brought him here because he was the only one who knew how to decode the silk pattern! But then Sarah tracked us down, and everything went to hell!"
"Where is my mother, Mark?" I demanded, taking a half-step back toward the window. "Tell me the truth. Is she alive?"
Mark stared at me for a long, painful silence. A twisted, tragic smile touched his lips—that same internal smile I had seen a thousand times at the breakfast table.
"She was alive until two days ago, Ket," Mark whispered. "She tried to contact you. She tried to send that private detective to bring you to Vermont. I couldn't let her blow our cover."
My heart didn't just break; it shredded into dust. "You... you killed her."
"I did what I had to do for our future!" Mark took another step forward, raising the gun higher. "Now give me the scarf, Kathryn. Hand it over, and I swear I'll let you and Leo walk out of here. You can take the house, the car, everything. Just give me the codes."
I looked down at Leo. He had buried his face in my neck, trembling silently. I looked at the man I had slept beside for a decade, the man who had promised to honor and cherish me.
"You want the scarf?" I said softly.
I reached into my jacket, pulled out the silk fabric, and tossed it toward the broken window.
The wind caught the light silk immediately, sucking it out into the pouring rain and down toward the muddy, flooded back garden.
"NO!" Mark roared.
He sprinted past me toward the window, leaning out into the storm to watch the scarf drift down into the dark yard.
May you like
It was the only opening I needed.
I grabbed the heavy bronze desk lamp from the side table, swung it with every ounce of strength left in my body, and slammed it into the back of Mark’s head.
