Julian's Confession

The laptop screen went black as I snapped it shut. The silence in the waiting room was heavy, broken only by the hum of the vending machine and Sophie's soft snoring. Leo was awake, watching me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Mom," he whispered. "Is Grandpa... is he bad?"

I pulled him into a hug, burying my face in his hair. "He's sick, Leo. He's very sick."

It was a lie, but a kinder one than the truth. Arthur wasn't sick. He was evil.

The door to the waiting room opened. A young officer stepped in.

"Mrs. Hawthorne? You're free to go. We've taken your statement, and we have units securing your property."

"Can I go back to the house?" I asked.

"We wouldn't recommend it," the officer said. "It's a crime scene now. And with the storm..."

"I have nowhere else to go," I said. "My husband..."

I choked on the word. Julian. Where was he?

"We have officers searching the area," the officer said gently. "But the quarry is... it's difficult terrain. Especially in this weather."

He meant *we haven't found a body.*

I stood up, waking Sophie.

"We're going home," I said.

The taxi ride back was a blur of rain and anxiety. The driver dropped us at the end of the driveway. The police tape was still there, flapping wetly in the wind. The front door was boarded up.

We went around the back. I used the key under the flowerpot.

The kitchen was exactly as we had left it. The coffee pot. The overturned chair. The blood on the floor in the hallway.

I steered the kids away from it.

"Go to the guest house," I said. "It's warm there. Lock the door."

"Where are you going?" Leo asked.

"I have to find your father," I said.

I waited until they were safely inside the small cottage behind the main house. Then I walked back into the kitchen.

I needed a drink. I needed a weapon.

I found a bottle of wine in the pantry. I didn't bother with a glass. I took a long pull, the alcohol burning my throat.

Then I went to the basement. I found the tire iron I had dropped.

I walked through the silent house. It felt like a tomb. A monument to a family that had never really existed.

I went to the master bedroom. Empty.

I went to the study.

The door was closed.

I pushed it open.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the lightning flashing outside.

Someone was sitting in Julian's chair.

"Arthur?" I whispered, raising the tire iron.

The figure turned.

It wasn't Arthur.

It was Julian.

He was soaking wet, shivering. His arm was in a sling made from a torn shirt. His face was pale, bruised.

"Julian?" I dropped the tire iron. I ran to him. "You're alive!"

He flinched when I touched him.

"I thought you were dead," I sobbed. "I thought Arthur killed you."

"He tried," Julian whispered. His voice was raspy, broken. "He shot me. In the shoulder."

"Where is he? Where is Arthur?"

"Gone," Julian said. "He took the car. He said... he said he had unfinished business."

I looked at him. He was trembling violently. The smell of alcohol coming off him was overpowering.

"You're drunk," I said.

"I needed it," he said. "To numb the pain."

He looked up at me. His eyes were bloodshot, haunted.

"Elena," he said. "I have to tell you something."

"It can wait," I said. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No," he said, grabbing my hand. His grip was weak, clammy. "It can't wait. You need to know."

"Know what?"

"About Margaret," he said. "About why I didn't tell you."

"You were scared," I said. "Arthur threatened you."

"No," Julian said. "That's what I told myself. But it's not the truth."

He took a breath. A tear slid down his cheek.

"I didn't tell you she was alive," he whispered, "because I was the one who put her there."

I froze.

"What?"

"Ten years ago," he said. "The night of the funeral. I found her. In the basement. She was... she was frantic. She had the blueprints. She was screaming about the baby."

He looked down at his hands.

"I called Dad," he said. "I told him she was having an episode. I told him she was dangerous."

He looked up at me.

"He told me she was dangerous, Elena," he sobbed. "That she tried to hurt me. And I believed him."