Page 191 of Stolen Voices

“That’s where you’re wrong. He gave me the trust and all the information on your fake IDs in my mom’s name.”

She scratches at her wrist, making me smirk. I have her, and she knows it.

“I have the life insurance policy you forged, the fake conservatorship papers, and I also have your man there.”

“You have nothing,” she hisses.

Novak shifts uncomfortably against the wall, no longer looking bored.

“I will give it to you, Silla. You were good at keeping me and Mom scared, but I’m not anymore. You’re hold on me is over. And when the police get here, they will know all about it. They will also know about him. I saw him the night he shot our father and ran off,” I admit.

“You couldn’t have.”

“I did. It took me a while, but I figured it out. That’s how I know he has a barbed wire tattoo on his right wrist.”

Novak tugs at his sleeve, pulling it down.

That’s right, motherfucker. I’ve got you too.

“I just want to know why. Why did you have him kill our dad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Silla stands from the chair and points at me like I’m the one in need of a scolding. “You have no evidence.”

“Liar.” I jump to my feet and hold up the gun I had stashed beside me. The weapon is heavy in my hands as I lift it and point it at her. “You’re lying. Tell me the truth. Why did you have Dad killed? I know it was you. You did this. I want the truth. Right fucking now. Tell me!”

“Because I hated him!” Silla screams, finally showing me her true self. “He was supposed to die and leave me the money I deserved for being the forgotten daughter. But you ruined that too, and he left you everything and I got nothing.”

“You weren’t forgotten, Silla. We could have had each other. You didn’t have to kill Dad. What did I get? Money? I would have given it all to you if you had just left me and Mom alone.”

Silla scoffs. “Oh, shut up. I’m so sick of your fucking whining. No one gives a shit that I killed your daddy and that your mommy is in a loony bin. Poor little rich girl.”

“I hate you.” I fight the urge to slap the sneer off her face. She has zero remorse for having our dad gunned down.

“The feeling is mutual,little sister.”

“What happened to the trust Dad left? My paychecks? The money from the Malibu house and Mom’s child support? You could have left with millions. Why do you need me dead too?”

Silla pants, her fists balled at her sides as anger and hate roll off her in waves.

I click the safety on the gun. In a quick move, I point it at the vase and pull the trigger. It explodes in a burst of sparkling crystal dust. Silla ducks, covering her head from the shards.

Novak takes a step towards Silla.

I turn the gun on him. “Don’t. Stay where you are. I have no problem shooting you.”

He raises his hands and steps back as I return my attention back to my sister.

“Tell me!”

“Because it’s not enough for the life I deserve to live. Dad owed me for leaving me. He forced me to live with my mother and her new family while he ran off with your mother and had you. You ruined everything. If I couldn’t have him, you couldn’t either. He was supposed to die and leave me with the money. But no, he couldn’t even do that right. So now, you have to die. You’ve run out of being useful.”

“You didn’t have to kill him. Dad would have helped you if you asked. He wanted you to be a part of our family.”

“I didn’t want to be a part of your stupid little family,” she screams. Silla looks unhinged, standing in the middle of the living room. Her face is beat red, and her blue eyes that I once thought looked like our father’s are nothing like them. “Dear old daddy left me for your whore of a mother and replaced me with you. Daddy’s perfect, pretty little Callie with her angelic voice. You had everything! And I had nothing. But not anymore.”

She lunges for me and reaches for the gun in my hands. Her claw-like nails dig into the back of my hands. I struggle to hold on to the gun as we fight, crashing into the furniture in the living room. She slips out of her high heel, and I use it to my advantage, elbowing her in the stomach. Unfortunately, Silla’s too strong and overpowers me, pulling the gun from my hands.

She turns the gun around and points it at me, pulling the trigger. The gun goes off with a bang, knocking the breath out of me. I stumble back at the pain lancing my stomach and clutch the ache in my belly. Falling on my behind in the middle of the living room, I watch as blood pools on my core.