Chapter 8
The longer the call went unanswered, the more the unease bled into Sabrina’s expression.
My father wasn’t done exposing her. With deliberate calm, he pulled out his phone and projected two images the big screen-
Sabrina’s latest full medical exam.
Unlike the so–called diagnosis she had waved around before, this one painted a very different picture.
She was perfectly healthy.
He spared her a glance, then turned to the reporters again.
“Take a look for yourselves. This woman has no mental health condition. The reason she called for rescue at that hotel pool wasn’t fear
It was to lure Ethan away from his post. She wanted my granddaughter dead.”
“Monster! You’re a monster, Sabrina!”
The reporters exploded, their shouts rattling the walls.
The fury seemed to finally jolt her into action. She pointed at the screen, voice shrill.
“That report is take! I’ve never had a checkup at that hospital in my life. This is a setup! That old man is trying to frame me!”
My father smiled faintly.
“Let’s see what your father has to say about that.‘
Another video filled the screen.
The moment her father’s face appeared, Sabrina’s knees buckled. She collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. In the footage, Charles Lowe sat slumped, eyes dead, voice heavy with defeat.
“I forged that psychological diagnosis using my personal connections. My daughter is in perfect health. I ordered the pool footage removed from the media to cover for her. She’s been infatuated with Ethan Carrington for years. Her jealousy toward his wife and child… it’s been festering. She planned their deaths.”
“Killing the child was only the first step. Vivian was next. My daughter’s cruelty is my failure as a father. I am guilty…”
The recording cut off with the sound of his sobs.
Her phone was still in her hand, still dialing. The busy tone beeped over and over, a chilling counterpoint to the confession that had just shattered her life.
When a father publicly names his own daughter as a murderer, no proof could be stronger.
Sabrina’s lips parted as if to speak, but the crowd had no patience left.
The truth had been simmering online for weeks; now, with it laid bare, their outrage finally found an outlet.
Cameras were dropped. People surged forward, fists and feet flying.
At first, her screams and curses cut through the noise. Then there was only the dull thud of blows landing.
Ethan stood motionless, a hollow statue. At last, he moved crossing to our daughter’s casket and dropping to his knees with a dull thump.
Seconds later, he rose and slammed his head against the coffin.
Blood trickled toward my shoes in a thin, steady stream. I watched as he went still, life draining away in front of me.
By the end of that day, Sabrina had been beaten within an inch of her life. The staff dragged her out and dumped her in the wilderness so the funeral could proceed.
Clepter 8
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The next morning, she was trending one last time.
Found dead in the open, her body bore signs of brutal torture.
That same morning, news broke that Charles Lowe had been found hanging in his home.
With the video confession, the public saw his suicide as an act of remorse.
It was over.
I left Kingsport City with my father, carrying my daughter’s ashes across the ocean.
When we landed, he took my hand and said quietly, “Vivian, do you think Charles’s little confession looked real enough? You always say I’m getting old but maybe not that old.”
–
I looked up at the sky.
The clouds had finally broken.
Chapter 1 Melissa Comes
