Chapter 9 - The Final Collapse
Three days before our public wedding renewal, Willow Vance broke out of her court-mandated psychiatric facility.
Driven by the singular delusion that she could reverse time, she drove a stolen utility vehicle straight to our penthouse residential complex in the northern hills. But she never made it past the wrought-iron perimeter gates. Private security, coordinated with municipal police, surrounded her vehicle within seconds.
I stood on the glass balcony of the second floor, looking down at the driveway alongside Audrey.
Willow was dragged from the driver’s seat. Her designer clothes were covered in mud, her face hollowed out until she looked like a walking ghost. As the handcuffs clicked around her wrists, she caught sight of us standing together on the balcony.
She stopped struggling. Her eyes locked onto mine, and then shifted to Audrey, whose hand was firmly entwined with mine, our wedding bands catching the afternoon sun.
""George!"" she screamed, her voice cracking into a ragged, bloody sob. ""Tell them to let me go! I remember everything now! I remember how you looked when you drank that poison for me! I remember how cold your hands were! Please, don't marry her! I’ll be good! I swear I’ll be good! I won't ever ask for the light again... you are my light! George!""
The police officers forced her into the rear of the patrol vehicle. Her forehead slammed repeatedly against the tinted safety glass as the cruiser pulled away, her muffled screams gradually fading into the drone of the autumn wind.
Beside me, Audrey tightened her grip on my fingers. ""Did you feel any pain watching that?""
May you like
I turned my back on the empty driveway and wrapped my arms around Audrey’s waist, burying my face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her familiar scent of sweet freesia and clean linen.
""No,"" I answered honestly. ""I only feel grateful that I woke up in time.""
