Thessaly's Point of View
"Your uncle is dead?" I stare at Caspian in the car. "But you said he recovered."
"That's what Lydia told me." His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "That's what the police told me. Thomas was hospitalized, treated, released. Case closed."
"What if she lied to everyone?"
"Then I've been walking around thinking I defended myself when I actually—" He can't finish.
"We don't know anything yet." I grab his hand. "Let's hear what the detective says."
The police station is gray and cold. Detective Morrison meets us in a small room. He's older, maybe sixty, with tired eyes.
"Mr. Holt. Thank you for coming." He looks at me. "And you are?"
"Thessaly Crane. His wife."
Morrison's eyebrows raise. "The wife from the news?"
"The wife who married him willingly." I sit down. "What evidence do you have?"
Morrison opens a file. Pulls out photos.
"Thomas Holt didn't die seven years ago. He died three months ago. In a Vermont hospital."
Caspian goes pale. "What?"
"He was in a coma for seven years. Brain damage from the gunshot." Morrison slides photos across. "Your bullet didn't kill him immediately, but it did eventually."
"So I did kill him." Caspian's voice is barely a whisper.
"In self-defense. I reviewed the case. Thomas broke in. Attacked you first." Morrison leans forward. "But Lydia Thorne lied about his condition. Told everyone he recovered."
"Why?" I ask.
"Control. As long as you thought Thomas was alive, you couldn't claim self-defense led to death." Morrison pulls out more papers. "Thomas's medical records. Lydia paid the hospital bills. Kept him alive but hidden."
Caspian looks sick. "She kept my uncle in a coma for seven years?"
"As insurance. When he died three months ago, she saw an opportunity." Morrison slides an envelope across. "Thomas left a letter. To be opened upon his death."
Caspian stares at it.
"Read it," Morrison says quietly.
With shaking hands, Caspian opens it. I read over his shoulder.
Caspian, If you're reading this, I'm finally dead. I've been trapped in my own mind for years. Aware but unable to move. A prisoner.
That night I came to your house, I wasn't there to attack you. I was there to warn you. About Lydia.
She came to me a week before. Offered me money to help her access your company. I refused. She threatened to hurt you.
I went to your house to tell you. But Lydia was already there. She pulled a gun. Your gun. She knew the combination.
She shot me. Then put the gun in your hand while you slept. Woke you by screaming. Made it look like you'd shot me defending yourself.
You never shot me, Caspian. She did.
I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner.
You're a good man. Don't let her win. -Thomas
The letter falls from Caspian's hands.
"She shot him," he whispers. "I didn't."
"And she's been making you think you killed your uncle for seven years." Morrison's voice is hard. "That's torture, Mr. Holt."
"Can we use this?" I ask.
"We can clear Mr. Holt and charge Lydia Thorne with attempted murder and fraud." Morrison stands. "I'm issuing a warrant for her arrest. She'll be in custody by tonight."
We leave in a daze.
"You didn't kill him," I say softly. "All these years. That guilt. It wasn't yours."
"I thought—" His voice breaks. "I thought I was a killer. Like my father."
"You're not. Lydia made you believe the worst." I take his hand. "But it was a lie."
He pulls me into a sudden, fierce hug. I freeze, then hug back.
"Thank you," he whispers. "For believing me."
My phone buzzes. Vesper.
Turn on the news. NOW.
I pull up a news site.
Breaking: LYDIA THORNE HOLDS PRESS CONFERENCE, RELEASES "PROOF" OF ABUSE
Live video. Lydia, tears streaming, sitting next to a lawyer.
"Caspian Holt is dangerous. He abused me. Shot his uncle. Now he's trapped another woman."
Photos appear. Me and Caspian. But edited. Bruises added to my face.
"These photos show Thessaly Crane Holt with clear signs of abuse." Lydia's voice shakes. "I'm begging her to leave before it's too late."
My blood runs cold.
"She's claiming you're abusing me."
"With fake photos." Caspian's jaw tightens. "She's trying to make you look weak."
"Or provoke you into something that makes you look guilty." I think fast. "We need to get ahead of this."
Caspian calls Vesper. "Emergency press conference. Within the hour."
"What will you say?"
"The truth. All of it." He looks at me. "With my wife beside me."
Thirty minutes later, we're in front of twenty cameras. Caspian's hand finds mine.
"I'm here to address Lydia Thorne's allegations. And share evidence proving every word is a lie."
Vesper projects Thomas's letter. Medical records. Detective Morrison's statement.
"Lydia Thorne attempted to murder my uncle seven years ago. There's a warrant for her arrest." Caspian's voice is steel. "The photos of my wife are fabricated."
"Mr. Holt! What about your daughter?"
"My daughter was kept from me illegally. I intend to fight for custody."
"Mrs. Holt! Did your husband force you into marriage?"
I step forward.
"Nobody forces me to do anything. I married Caspian because he offered honesty when everyone else offered lies. Including my family, who helped Lydia hide for three years."
Gasps.
"My mother knew Lydia faked her death. Knew about Aurora. Helped hide her." I look at the camera. "I'm done being controlled."
The press conference explodes. Caspian pulls me away.
In the car, my hands shake.
"That was brave," Caspian says.
"I just declared war on my family."
"Good."
My phone rings. My mother.
I answer on speaker. "What?"
"How dare you! You humiliated this family!"
"You humiliated yourself by helping a murderer."
"Lydia is not—"
"She tried to kill Thomas Holt. She's a monster, and you helped." My voice is ice. "I'm done protecting you."
I hang up. Block her.
"That felt good."
Caspian smiles. "Welcome to the other side."
We're almost home when Soren calls.
"Turn around. Don't go home."
"Why?"
"Lydia's at your building. With Aurora. She's on the roof threatening to jump unless you meet her alone."
Caspian's face goes white.
"Building security is trying to talk her down. She's only asking for you." Soren's voice is tight. "This could be a trap."
"I don't care. That's my daughter."
We race to the building. Run for the elevator.
On the roof, Lydia stands at the edge. Aurora cries in her arms.
"Let her go!" Caspian shouts.
Lydia smiles. "Come closer and I drop her."
Aurora sees Caspian. "You! The nice man from the ducks!"
"That's right, sweetheart. Everything's going to be okay."
"Nothing is okay!" Lydia's grip tightens. "You ruined everything, Caspian!"
"Let Aurora go. She's innocent."
"She's leverage."
I step forward. "Lydia. Look at me."
She does.
"You want to hurt Caspian? Hurt me instead. I'm his wife." I move closer. "Let Aurora go. Take me."
"Thessaly, no—" Caspian grabs for me.
But I'm already moving. Reaching for Aurora.
Lydia's eyes flash. "You think you're a hero?"
She shoves Aurora toward me. I catch the little girl.
Then Lydia lunges for the edge.
But she doesn't jump.
She falls.
Someone pushed her.
I look up.
Elowen stands where Lydia was, breathing hard.
My sister.
"She was going to kill a child," Elowen says, voice shaking. "I couldn't let her—"
Police sirens wail below.
Lydia's scream cuts off suddenly.
Aurora buries her face in my shoulder.
Caspian pulls us both into his arms.
"Is the bad lady gone?" Aurora whispers.
"Yes, sweetheart. The bad lady is gone."
But as I hold this child and watch my sister collapse, I realize something.
Elowen just killed someone.
To save us.
And nothing will ever be the same.