Sara

15

"I'm here to visit Darius Madden," Sara told the man behind the desk on entering the prison. "I'm Sara Lark, his sister-in-law."

"Ah, the sister," the man said. "I'm so sorry, about what happened to your sister. That's just awful."

Sara nodded, not trusting her voice initially. After a breath, she replied, "Well, he's still family, isn't he?" Saying the words tasted disgusting, bile rising in her throat to punish her for not cursing out Darius' name to the man.

"Yeah," the man nodded. "Forgiveness is such a noble act, isn't it? Grudges just leave you cold and empty inside, all your energy put into such a worthless hate and for what? It just ruins your own day, your own life, not the other person's. I'm glad to see you're on the right path, Miss Lark."

Sara nodded, the slight smile on her face frozen. She could never forgive Darius, not for anyone. She was walking into the fire, into the collapsing building, and she would die beside her sister, die for her sister. Leah never knew how hard it would be to walk away. She didn't know it was impossible.

It didn't take long for Sara to be brought to a visiting room to see Darius. She sat on the hard, cold bench, arms folded on the table in front of her, watching and waiting for the guard to bring Darius in.

Then she saw him.

Dressed in a vibrant orange jumpsuit, Darius was unshaven, his stubble having transformed into a beard, and his hair looked a little unkempt. At the sight of her sitting, waiting, his eyes widened and then narrowed, clearly not expecting to see her there.

"Sara," he said as the guard marched him into the room. "This is, uh...this is a surprise."

Sara nodded curtly. "Hello, Darius."

The guard chained Darius' handcuffs to the bar in the middle of the table and stepped out of the room. Darius rubbed his wrists as he pinned Sara with his dark gaze, brow slightly furrowed.

"Why are you here?" Darius asked. "I don't think it's to say hello, not after what...what happened."

No, of course not, you bastard. You don't even have the courage to say what you really did, do you? You MURDERED MY SISTER!! Damn you! Damn you, Darius!

"Why did you do it?" Sara asked, her voice a lot calmer than the thoughts swimming around inside her head, yelling and cursing to be let free. "Why did you kill Leah? What did she ever do to you?"

"I'm sure you've heard, by now," Darius said. "She was cheating. I found her with her lover and couldn't stop myself. By the time I'd realized what was going on, I'd already pulled the trigger."

"What a load of bull," Sara commented, her hand reaching to her side, for the pen secured there. No better time than the present, is there? "Leah wasn't cheating. It's a nice story, though. Sure makes you into a sympathetic figure, doesn't it?"

Darius narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about, Sara?"

"Telling the world Leah was cheating on you and you were so angry that you killed her for it? Before coming to your senses after shooting her, the only thing that prevented Mr. Eugene Michaelson from suffering the same fate? I'm sure it made sense not to kill him, though, although technically he should have died beside Leah if he was really her lover. You couldn't kill your handler, could you, not the one who got you your jobs and helped you scheme up a cover story for murdering your wife! My sister!"

Darius' eyes grew cold, hard. "Look here, Sara," he growled. "You know nothing. You want to die, too? Because that can be arranged." He spread his hands as best he could, with the handcuffs wrapped around his wrists. "I'm only in here for a year, after all." He dropped his hands into his lap.

The door opened and Sara glanced up to see none other than Eugene Michaelson entering the room, limping across the concrete floor. She ducked her head, her hair falling forward across her face. Don't look at me don't look at me don't look at me....

Michaelson ignored both her and Darius, and Darius didn't even give him a second look. He didn't look surprised to see his handler taking a seat at the table next to theirs, just bored. Not a flicker of recognition appeared in his eyes.

"I know what you did," Sara whispered, her voice so low Darius had to lean forward to hear her. She reached up under the edge of her blouse, ripping the pen away from her skin and doing her best not to wince as the Band-Aids gave way. She placed her hand in her lap, gripping the pen so tightly her knuckles turned white.

This was it. The moment of truth.

Wait. Michaelson's here. He'll prevent me from killing Darius; he'll kill me instead. And I can't die, not until Darius dies first. I need to make sure he pays for what he did!

The door opened and the guard marched another man in. Sara glanced up and saw Samuel Cant, the drug lord that had just been transferred there. He was brought over to Michaelson's table, who smiled easily and began to speak to him in a low voice.

I'll have to wait until they leave.

Wait, the little voice in her head implored. Why is Cant visiting with Michaelson? What's going on?

"That doesn't matter," Darius told Sara, returning his eyes to her face after glancing at Cant. "I've already been held accountable for Leah's death; double jeopardy mandates I can't be tried again. No matter what you know. In truth, you have nothing, and all you'll get for your sisterly devotion is death, just like Leah got."

Darius rose from his seat and Sara thought he was going to gesture to the guard to come get him, so he could leave. But then the handcuffs fell off his wrists and her eyes widened as she realized he was free.