Chapter 8 - The Living Ghost
Monica was the first to scream.
It was a high,
piercing sound that tore through the air.
She dropped her wine glass,
the red liquid staining the white rug like blood.
“Ghost!”
she shrieked,
backing away until she hit the bookshelf.
“It’s a ghost!”
Daniel was frozen,
his face a mask of pure,
unadulterated horror.
His eyes were bulging,
his mouth hanging open.
He looked like a man who had seen the devil.
Arthur was the only one who remained calm,
though his hand was shaking as he reached for his phone.
“It’s a trick,”
Arthur hissed.
“She’s dead.
We buried her today.”
“You buried an empty box,
Arthur,”
I said,
walking into the center of the room.
“I climbed out of the coffin last night.”
“I heard everything.”
I looked at Daniel,
the man who had shared my bed.
“I heard you give my necklace to my sister.”
“I heard you talk about the offshore accounts.”
“I heard you say no one would ever know.”
Daniel finally found his voice,
though it was a weak,
trembling thing.
“Elena…
it’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think,
Daniel.”
I pulled the vial out of my pocket and held it up.
“This is the poison Monica gave me.”
“The police have the original bottle from the kitchen.”
“And Sarah has the recordings of your conversation from tonight.”
Arthur tried to lung for the door,
but Sarah stepped into the room,
followed by two uniformed officers.
“Don't even try it,
Arthur,”
one of the officers said,
his hand on his holster.
The room erupted into chaos.
Monica fell to her knees,
sobbing and begging for mercy.
Daniel tried to push past the officers,
but they tackled him to the ground.
I stood there,
watching the collapse of the world they had built.
It felt like a heavy weight was being lifted from my chest.
I walked over to Monica and reached down.
I grabbed the gold necklace from her neck,
the links snapping as I pulled it away.
“This was never yours,”
I said,
clutching the metal in my fist.
The officers led them out of the house,
the sirens of the backup cars wailing in the driveway.
I stood in the foyer,
watching them go.
Daniel looked back at me one last time,
his eyes full of a dark,
impotent rage.
I didn't blink.
May you like
I didn't turn away.
I watched until the doors of the police car closed.
