And from the darkness, my mother’s voice whispered:
“Your grandfather should have destroyed this place when he had the chance.”
—
PART 4
THE MOTHER WHO CAME BACK WITH A GUN
Emergency lights flashed red along the floor.
I dropped behind a metal table as another bullet shattered glass above my head.
“Police!” Beckett shouted from the stairwell. “Drop the weapon!”
My mother laughed.
“You think the police can protect her?”
Melanie crawled toward Walter, who lay clutching his shoulder.
“Walter’s alive!” she cried.
Wyatt’s voice suddenly echoed from behind me.
“Sadie!”
I turned in shock.
He had followed us.
Before I could stop him, he threw himself across the room and pulled me behind a reinforced cabinet.
“What are you doing here?”
“Saving you from your own terrible decisions.”
Even terrified, I wanted to cry with relief.
Gunfire erupted near the entrance.
Then my mother stepped into the red emergency light.
Her elegant coat was soaked with rain. Her hair clung to her face. In her hand was a pistol.
She looked nothing like the woman who had once baked birthday cakes and kissed scraped knees.
She looked empty.
Melanie stood slowly.
“Mom, put it down.”
“You ruined everything,” Mother hissed.
Melanie flinched.
“I did what you told me for years.”
“And then you betrayed us.”
“You were going to kill Sadie!”
Mother’s expression did not change.
“She was never supposed to survive.”
The sentence silenced the entire room.
Wyatt’s hand tightened around mine.
I stepped out from behind the cabinet.
“Why?”
Mother aimed the gun at me.
“Because you were always worth more alive than the rest of us—and more dangerous once you learned why.”
Detective Beckett moved carefully along the wall.
Mother noticed.
“Stop, Detective.”
She pressed the barrel against Melanie’s neck.
“Or she dies first.”
Melanie closed her eyes.
For the first time in my life, she looked younger than me.
Not glamorous.
Not cruel.
Just frightened.
Mother continued.
“Your grandfather believed he was saving children. But the company funding his research wanted patents, military contracts, billions.”
“What company?” I asked.
“Virex Medical.”
The name was familiar. Virex manufactured surgical devices and neurological drugs around the world.
Walter struggled to sit up.
“They buried the trial data,” he gasped. “The treatment healed nerve damage, but it also exposed dangerous defects in Virex’s bestselling medication.”
Mother glared at him.
“You should have stayed silent.”
Grandpa had discovered evidence that Virex’s drug caused irreversible damage.
And I had been living proof that his alternative treatment worked.
“If the truth came out,” Walter continued, “Virex would lose everything.”
Mother smiled bitterly.
“So they offered your father and me enough money to make sure it never did.”
My stomach twisted.
“You sold Grandpa.”
“We saved this family.”
“You murdered him.”
Her eyes flickered.
Not guilt.
Annoyance.
“Your father changed his medication. I merely made sure no one interfered.”
Melanie began to shake.
“You told me those pills were vitamins.”
Mother looked at her without tenderness.
“You were useful then.”
