Page 40 of The Birthday Girl
M oths battered themselves senseless against the porch lights of the sleeping houses, their wings clicking faintly against hot glass. Wind chimes swayed in the thin night air, their song too delicate for the heaviness pressing down on the block.
At the corner, Tahlia sat in her car, eyes fixed on Danielle’s house, her grip on the steering wheel so tight her palms started to ache. The house was a small, forgettable thing, just like its owner. Curtains sagged in the windows, and a child’s stroller lay abandoned on its side near the steps.
Tahlia shook her head at Danielle’s lack of ambition. Neither wealth nor power drove her sister. Deception did. Danielle was greedy, messy, and cheap at the core.
She didn’t care about loyalty or blood. If she wanted something, she pursued it with no hesitation.
Men were her favorite prize, especially those who already belonged to someone else.
Even her sister wasn’t off limits. Everything about her was shady, from the way she smiled in your face to the way she slid into your bed the minute you turned your back.
And Tahlia despised her entire character.
She also hated the fact that her sister could vanish into her trap house peacefully, while her name bled across headlines, dragged through the muck of scandal.
Tahlia killed the headlights and let the vehicle glide to the curb. In the darkness, she listened to her pulse hammer like a war drum.
Farrell’s voice flashed back to her. “So the question becomes, what do you do with a thread that refuses to stop unraveling the fabric?”
Her lips split into a smile. “You cut it.”
Tahlia stepped out of her car, and the gravel cracked underfoot as she crossed the lawn. The porch light hummed above, its bulb flickering with a sickly stutter, as if it knew what was about to happen. She lifted her fist and knocked, the sound hollow against the wood.
Then she waited.
A few moments later, Tahlia heard the shuffle of tired footsteps, a baby’s cry, and Danielle’s muffled voice before the lock twisted and the door swung open.
Upon seeing her, Danielle stopped cold in her tracks, and the color drained from her face.
Her gaze crawled over Tahlia in an excruciating slowness, taking in her disheveled state.
Black streaks of mascara etched down her cheeks, and her loose curls tumbled wild around her face.
Stains blotched her expensive clothes, and her slippers were mottled with dried blood.
But her eyes—nothing could prepare Danielle for her eyes.
Danielle’s breath caught, her body swaying under the weight of that stare. It’s terrifying vacancy prickled her skin and closed her throat. Those eyes didn’t see her as a sister. They didn’t even see her as a person. They cut straight through her, stripping her down to nothing.
This bitch is crazy, Danielle thought, her eyes widening as her pulse hammered in her ears.
She wanted to move, to speak, to do anything that might break the silence, but she couldn’t.
That dead gaze rooted her to her spot, whispering that whatever Tahlia had come for, there would be no reasoning, no pleading, and no mercy.
Her mouth opened, ready to protest the unexpected visit, but before sound could escape, Tahlia’s hand darted forward, a twinkle of silver catching the light before the blade plunged through cotton, then skin, then something softer, giving way with a sound like a wet towel slapping tile.
A half-swallowed gasp bubbled from Danielle’s throat as her body jerked violently, and she stared at her sister in disbelief.
“You… you stabbed me.”
“I did.” Tahlia‘s lips peeled back into a grin steeped in cruel pleasure, her eyes burning with a frantic light. “You thought you would humiliate me and get away with it?” She asked as she twisted the blade, feeling tissue yield beneath her blade as Danielle’s flesh parted.
Still clutching the knife buried in her sister’s gut, Tahlia shoved her across the threshold and slammed the door with a kick that rattled the frame.
“You, of all people, knew better than to push me this far.”
Both of Danielle’s hands flew to her wound as she stumbled, her knees growing weak. Blood poured from her belly, hot and heavy, and she wheezed out a broken plea, her voice rasping with raw panic.
“Please, Tah. Please don’t do th—”
Tahlia wrenched the knife free with a wet pull and drove it back in, the blade finding its place beneath her ribs with a dull, wet rip.
“Don’t do what? Spare you?” Tahlia laughed. “Please, I’m not sparing a damn thing. You’re dying today.”
“What… about… your niece?” Tears slipped from Danielle’s eyes as she questioned.
“Fuck her and fuck you!” Tahlia’s snarl rent the air. “That baby isn’t my niece. It’s my stepchild. And you wanted me to know so badly that you had your bum-ass mother use me to throw a baby shower.”
Danielle shook her head, her voice thready and weak. “No... That… was… your idea.”
“You bitches knew I wouldn’t fund your baby’s life!” Tahlia’s voice climbed higher, her eyes flashing with mania. “Y’all anticipated it. Plotted against me, whispered behind my back, and laughed at me. You two thought I was too stupid to catch on.”
Her joyless laugh tore out of her. “Y’all wanted to humiliate me and use me to raise your mistake while you sat there smiling, like I wouldn’t notice you playing me for a fool.” She leaned in closer, her grin wide and unhinged. “But I noticed. I always notice everything.”
“I-I’m sorry. Please,” she pleaded, her entire body shaking.
“No, the fuck you’re not!” Tahlia’s shout struck down like a whip, drowning out Danielle’s sob.
“Bitch, you’ve never been sorry a day in your life.
Sorry people don’t sneak behind their sister’s back and fuck her man.
Sorry people don’t get pregnant by men who belong to their sister, let alone keep the bastard.
And sorry people don’t stand in front of cameras and accuse their siblings of murder! ”
Danielle coughed, blood bubbling at her lips. “I didn’t—”
Tahlia removed the knife and roughly grabbed Danielle by the face. “You did. You and that tired-ass mother of yours plotted this. You bitches have been counting me out my whole life.” She leaned down, her grin wide and ugly. “Now you’re about to be one less bitch breathing and hating on me.”
Tahlia shoved the blade in Danielle’s side to the hilt, and her shoulders curled inward, her breath hitching through clenched teeth. Her nails clawed weakly at Tahlia’s forearm, dragging shallow grooves into her skin before slipping away.
“You want to kill me… like… you did the… others? All…over…a…man?” Danielle asked, struggling to speak through the excruciating pain.
Tahlia’s chest rose and fell hard, the knife trembling in her hand as she locked eyes with her sister. Then—she cackled. Her laughter started as a hiccup, then spilling out in ragged bursts that made her shoulders shake and tears spring to the corners of her eyes.
“You think I stabbed you only about Tyriq?” She laughed harder. “It’s not about him, or even about the internet villainizing me, or you running your mouth. No, bitch. You’ve had this coming since we were kids.”
Her grin widened, teeth flashing, the knife twisting as she spoke. “Every dirty look, every time you tried to outshine me, every whisper you thought I didn’t hear, you stacked it up. You’ve been asking for this your whole damn life, and now I’m just collecting the debt that’s owed.”
“Please,” Danielle rasped, tears streaking her face as she winced in agony.
“You’ve grown to be one weak, pathetic bitch. You had all that mouth for the cameras, and now you’re crying for your life. I’m disgusted.” Tahlia’s face twisted, and she rolled her eyes.
Hearing her weirdo sister call her weak made something inside Danielle break, and shame burned hotter than the pain.
Danielle’s lips curled, spite sparking even through pain. “Weak? You was always the soft one. Crying over every little thing, and running to Daddy so he could fix it. I told you then, and I’ll tell you now—you ain’t built like me.”
Tahlia yanked her by the hair, slamming her head against the wall.
“Built like you? Bitch, please. You strutted around the house like a queen while everyone gave me scraps. Mama doted on you, Daddy spoiled you, and you lapped it up as if you deserved it.” She twisted the knife, her grin savage. “All you ever deserved was pity.”
Danielle’s nails clawed at her arm, dragging bloody lines. “Pity? That’s what they gave you, not me. They gave me everything because I was worth it. I was the daughter they bragged about. You? You was just the weird little sister nobody wanted around.”
Tahlia shrieked, stabbing again and again, each thrust a word. “Not anymore. Not anymore. Not anymore!”
Blood bubbled at Danielle’s lips, but she grinned through it, defiant. “Still the little sister, still jealous, still crazy.”
Tahlia leaned close, voice bitter as acid. “Crazy enough to finish what I started. Mercedes. Mama. Daddy. Shanice. Her kids. Now you. And that baby, too.”
Danielle’s eyes widened, terror flashing. “You… killed… them all?”
Tahlia smiled, evil and sure. “Yup. Just like I’m about to kill you, then…” she pointed toward the back room. “Her.”
Just then, the baby’s wails climbed to a fever pitch. Its tiny lungs somehow matched the volume of the horror unfolding in the entryway.
The sound tugged at whatever bit of protectiveness Danielle had left in her, and with a surge of desperate strength, her palms slammed into Tahlia’s chest, and her fist followed.
Tahlia’s head snapped sideways with a sickening crack, and she staggered away from the wall. She stumbled backward, shock piercing through her rage. Her shoe caught the rug’s frayed edge, and she lost traction on the wet tile. She pitched forward, arms flailing wildly.