Chapter 7 - The Betrayal
I stared at my mother, entirely unable to process the words that had just left her mouth.
"Mom, what are you saying?" I whispered, looking desperately at my father.
My father avoided my eyes, staring intensely at the expensive rug beneath his feet.
Daniel let out a cruel, triumphant laugh and gestured with the pistol.
"Put the briefcase on the table, Rachel, or I will shoot Emily first," Daniel ordered.
I slowly placed the black leather briefcase on the glass coffee table, my hands shaking violently.
"Why are you doing this?" Emily screamed at our parents, stepping protectively in front of me.
"He murdered Rachel's baby, he beat her, he has killed three other women!"
My mother set her teacup down with a sharp clink.
"We know exactly what Daniel does, Emily," my mother replied smoothly.
"And we know about the ten-million-dollar insurance policy."
The room started to spin as the horrific truth finally crashed down on me.
My parents were not hostages; they were accomplices.
"Daniel promised us two million dollars from the payout to save your father's failing company," my mother confessed without a single ounce of shame.
"You are a disappointment anyway, Rachel. You couldn't even give him a male heir."
My own mother had sold my life to a serial killer to pay off business debts.
The betrayal cut deeper than the ropes around my ankles ever could.
"You are monsters," I choked out, feeling a dark, powerful rage replace my fear.
"We are survivors," my father finally spoke, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
Daniel pulled the briefcase toward him and popped the locks.
He smiled as he saw his documents were still inside, completely unaware of the digital copies we had made.
"Now, we are going to drive to the cliffs near the old quarry," Daniel announced, pointing the gun at me.
"You and Emily are going to have a tragic car accident."
He stood up awkwardly, leaning heavily on his good leg.
"Walk out the back door, quietly," he commanded.
We walked through the kitchen, my mind racing desperately for a way out.
As we reached the back patio, Emily suddenly tripped over the doorway, falling hard onto the tiles.
"Get up!" Daniel shouted, distracted for a fraction of a second.
Emily didn't get up.
Instead, she slammed her hand against the master switch of the home's elaborate security system on the wall.
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Instantly, the house was plunged into total darkness, and deafening siren alarms began blasting from every speaker.
In the pitch black, a gunshot rang out, shattering the glass door right next to my head.
