Emily stepped forward, her mask of sweetness completely gone now.
“You should be scared, Lorine, because you have a choice to make. You can be part of this family, or you can be a problem that needs to be solved.”
“What kind of choice?”
Grant sat down across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mom. Over the next few days, Maryanne’s condition is going to deteriorate. Her breathing will become labored. Her heart rate will become irregular. And eventually, her body will give up the fight, and you’re going to be here to witness all of it.”
Emily added, “You’re going to see how hard we fight to save her, how devastated we are when we lose her. When the paramedics come, when the police ask routine questions, when the insurance investigators follow up, you’re going to tell them exactly what you saw.”
Grant continued.
“A loving family doing everything possible for a brain injured woman who tragically lost her battle.”
I stared at them.
These two people who were calmly explaining how they planned to commit murder and use me as their alibi.
“And if I don’t?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop 10°.
“Mom,” Grant said softly. “You’re 64 years old. You live alone. You don’t have much family besides me. Accidents happen to elderly people all the time.”
The threat was clear, even though he’d wrapped it in gentle language.
I felt true fear for the first time since this nightmare began.
“You wouldn’t,” I breathed.
“We really hope we won’t have to,” Emily said, her voice bright and cheerful again. “We much prefer having you as our ally rather than our enemy. After all, family should stick together.”
I sat there in stunned silence, trying to process what they just told me.
They weren’t just planning to murder Maryanne.
They were prepared to kill me, too, if I didn’t cooperate with their scheme.
“I need some time to think,” I finally managed to say.
“Of course you do,” Grant said, standing up and walking over to pat my shoulder.
The gesture felt like a snake wrapping around my neck.
“Take all the time you need, but remember, Mom, we start tomorrow morning, and we need to know that you’re with us.”
As I walked to the guest room on shaking legs, I heard them whispering in the living room behind me.
I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakably that of predators discussing their prey.
I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, my whole body trembling.
They had just threatened my life as casually as they might discuss the weather.
And tomorrow they were going to begin murdering Maryanne while forcing me to watch and later lie about what I’d witnessed.
But what they didn’t know, what they couldn’t possibly suspect, was that every word of their confession had just been recorded by the hidden devices Maryanne and I had planted throughout the house.
The trap had been sprung, and they had walked right into it.
I barely slept that night.
Every sound in the house made me jump, wondering if Grant and Amily had decided I was too much of a risk to keep alive until morning.
But as dawn broke through the guest room window, I was still breathing, still alive, and still determined to see their plan through to its conclusion.
At 6:00 a.m., I heard movement in the hallway.
Emily was starting her morning routine, checking on Maryanne and preparing what she would claim were prescribed medications.
I lay still, listening to her soft footsteps and quiet humming, amazed at how normal she could sound while preparing to commit murder.
Around 7, Grant knocked softly on my door.
“Mom, are you awake?”
I opened the door to find him standing there with a cup of coffee and what looked like genuine concern on his face.
The performance was so convincing that for just a moment, I almost forgot what he really was.
“I brought you coffee,” he said gently. “I know last night was a lot to process.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the cup with hands that only trembled slightly.
“Have you thought about what we discussed?”
I looked into his eyes, my son’s eyes, and saw absolutely no trace of the boy I’d raised.
“Yes, and I understand what you need from me.”
The words tasted like poison in my mouth.
Grant’s face relaxed into what might have been relief.
“I knew you’d see reason, Mom. Family has to stick together, especially during difficult times.”
“Of course,” I said softly. “I just want to help.”
“Good. Emily is going to start documenting changes in Maryanne’s condition today. She might need you to witness some of those changes to confirm what you’ve observed.”
“I understand.”
Grant patted my shoulder again.
That gesture that now made my skin crawl.
“You’re doing the right thing, Mom. This is what’s best for everyone.”
After he left, I got dressed quickly and made my way to Maryanne’s room.
Emily was there adjusting IV lines and making notes on a chart.
“How is she this morning?” I asked.
“I’m concerned,” Emily said, her voice full of practiced worry. “Her breathing seems more labored than usual and her color is off. I think we might be seeing the beginning of the decline the doctors warned us about.”
I looked at Maryanne, lying motionless in the hospital bed.
Her breathing did seem slightly more labored, but I knew that was due to whatever drugs Amily had given her the night before.
“Should we call Mrs. Patterson?”
“I already did. She’s coming by this afternoon to reassess.”
Emily made another note on her chart.
“I also called Dr. Brennan’s office to let him know about the changes.”
Dr. Brennan was Marannne’s supposed neurologist, another part of their carefully constructed web of lies.
I wondered if he even existed or if Amily was managing that deception, too.