When the Last One Falls

Prologue

I knew that I was going to hang for this, but I didn't care. I stopped caring about consequences long ago. I stopped caring about right and wrong long before tonight.

I stared at the body on the floor and at the pool of blood flooding outward, seeping into the grout of the tile. The expensive chair that I was sitting in felt uncomfortable, but the cigarette in my hand felt right. The nicotine filling my lungs felt like a warm blanket, calming me. While a lot of people considered smoking a nasty habit, I hadn't always been a smoker.

Though my hands had been a shaking mess when I'd lit the offending vice, they weren't shaking anymore. I felt a calm that I couldn't remember feeling in a long time. The house was silent, but I welcomed the silence with open arms. This silence was different from the normal tension-filled quiet that used to live in this house. However, I knew that the silence wasn't going to last long. Soon, the house would be filled with strangers; people asking questions, taking pictures, talking amongst themselves, trying to understand how something like this could happen.

See, no matter what I said, there'd be no getting around the fact that I'd committed the ultimate sin. In a world where men ruled, I'd done the unthinkable. Wives didn't disobey their husbands. Wives didn't have their own opinions. Wives were property, no rights given to them other than what their husbands allowed.

My broken fingers weren't going to matter to a police force full of men. The bruises and welts that decorated my body weren't going to make a difference in what happened here tonight. My torn body wasn't going to change anything because rape didn't exist between a husband and his wife. The law, something that was also written by men, stated that a man had every right to exercise his husbandly duties, and it was a wife's duty to submit, no matter how unpleasant or violent.

The proof of my abuse wasn't going to save me. The horror story of my life wasn't going to excuse what I'd done. No one on the Portal Lands Police Department was going to make any allowances for this kind of thing. I mean, if they did, then someone else's wife might also decide that she didn't want to take any more abuse.

Still, there was a silver lining to all this, though it couldn't be seen just yet. It wouldn't be seen until I was dead, when the reading of the will was shared with my children. There was also no doubt that everything would go to the kids, though I couldn't see them wanting to live here after what happened. I could see them selling off everything, splitting the money evenly, then going about their lives. No matter how extravagant this mansion was, it held nothing but dark memories, and I didn't blame my children for never coming back to visit.

As the pool of blood widened, surrounding my white high heels, I crossed one leg over the other, the dripping sound of blood being the only noise in the house. Finishing my cigarette, I could only pray that I'd done a good enough job with forging Wilfred's signature on our will. After all, that was the whole reason for Wilfred lying dead on the floor. Though my dear friend had assured me that it would pass scrutiny, Tenor Ludwig was still a man, and I had almost zero faith in men these days.

I put the cigarette out on the kitchen table, the only time that this house hadn't been spotless, and it felt good. It felt good to not fear Wilfred attacking me over the house not looking perfect. It felt good not to fear Wilfred attacking me for not anticipating his wants or needs beforehand. It felt good not to fear what might happen next, because I already knew what was going to happen next.

I was going to get arrested for murdering my husband, and I was going to hang for it. Life in prison was not going to be an option for me. A jury full of men were going to see a woman so ungrateful that she murdered her husband. After all, we were the richest people in Portal Lands, so what were a few bruises when I had everything else that anyone could possibly need?

I let out one last nicotine-filled breath and thought about my daughters, Agnes and Meredith. Never would they be at the mercy of a man after tonight. Never would they have to suffer like so many women of our time. In a world that belonged to men, I didn't feel bad for any future sons that wouldn't inherit. Being born a male, they would already have the roads of a prosperous future paved for them.

So, the future Jennings women were finally going to be able to control their own destinies, hold their own futures in their hands. The mines would never fall into the hands of another husband ever again, no matter what legal means they tried to impart. My bloodline would finally be free, and it was worth the dead body lying on the floor at my feet.

That freedom was also worth dying for.