Chapter 2
The kitchen went completely silent.
I lay on the floor, pain radiating through my body, and watched the exchange between mother and son.
Diane's hand trembled as she reached for her phone.
"What are you talking about?" she said, but her voice shook.
Ryan smiled. It was a cold, dead smile.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Mom. The fire. The insurance money. How Dad really died."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Diane's husband—Ryan's father—had died in a house fire fifteen years ago. It was ruled an accident. A faulty space heater.
"You're lying," Diane whispered.
"Am I?" Ryan leaned against the counter. "You think I was too young to remember? I saw you. I saw you pour the gasoline in the basement. I saw you light the match."
My stomach turned. The pain in my belly intensified.
"Ryan, stop this," I managed to say. "My baby..."
"Shut up, Emily!" Ryan snapped. "This is family business."
Diane stared at her son. Her eyes were filled with something I couldn't read. Grief? Horror? Guilt?
"You were seven years old," she said softly. "You didn't understand what you saw."
"I understood enough," Ryan said. "And I've kept your secret all these years. But if you send that video to the police... if you ruin my life... I'll tell them everything. And you'll go to prison for murder."
I looked at Diane.
Tears streamed down her face.
She looked at me on the floor. She looked at the phone in her hand. She looked at her son.
"Emily needs a hospital," Diane said, her voice breaking. "The baby—"
"Will be fine," Ryan interrupted. "You're dramatic, just like your mother. It was a kick. Not a bullet."
Another wave of pain hit me. I cried out.
"Please," I begged.
Diane made her decision.
She grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
Ryan lunged.
But Diane was faster. She scrambled backward, holding the phone to her ear.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"My daughter-in-law is eight months pregnant and her husband just kicked her in the stomach! We need an ambulance immediately!"
Ryan stopped. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, his face twisted with rage.
"You stupid old woman," he said quietly.
"Our address is 412 Maplewood Drive, Plano," Diane continued, her voice steady now. "Please hurry."
She hung up.
Ryan stared at her.
"You've destroyed both of us," he said.
"I saved her," Diane replied. "And I'm going to save this baby, no matter what you say about me."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Ryan walked to the front door and opened it.
He didn't run. He didn't hide.
He just stood there, waiting for the police to arrive.
I looked at Diane.
She knelt beside me again, taking my hand.
"Whatever he says about me," she whispered, "promise you'll remember this moment. Remember that I chose you."
I squeezed her hand.
May you like
The pain was unbearable now.
"Hold on, Emily," Diane said. "Help is coming. Just hold on."
