The Family Origin

Chapter Sixty-Nine: JOSEPH POV

 I was leaving the barn when I heard the scream. It was high-pitched and feminine, bringing my mind back to the day Clara was murdered. How could an intruder get into our home to hurt Maisie? The doors were locked, and the windows were secured with bars. She was supposed to be safe in our home.

The screaming turned into a horrendous sob as I ran toward the house. My hands fumbled with my key as I unlocked the door. My heart was pounding as I burst into the kitchen, preparing myself to see Maisie hurt and struggling for her life.

My steps faltered when I saw Maisie was kneeling on the floor and Miles was crouched next to her. A dark-haired woman was sitting on one of the dining room chairs. Her body shook with each shrill cry she screamed. Her wrist was twisted at an unnatural angle in Miles's hand. I let out a sigh of relief as I ran my fingers through my hair.

Our family was safe.

"You scared me," I said. "I thought somebody was hurt."

I stepped closer to see that the dark-haired girl was Alice. Between her heavy sobs and screams, she was struggling to breathe. She could barely keep her body upright on the chair. Small slices were on the sides of her throat, and blood ran down her skin and onto her dress. Maisie's eyes were wide and fixed on Alice. She flinched each time Alice screamed.

"Miles, get it over with," he said. "It is not worth a headache."

"Please!" Alice managed to form a coherent word before returning to her cries.

Miles let out a deep breath as he let go of her. She cradled her wrist to her chest, cringing at the sight of the broken bones. Miles stood straight. His knife was in his hand, but he flipped the blade in before shoving it into his pocket. Without looking back at Alice, he strode over to the kitchen counter.

Was he not going to kill her?

Alice must have seen this as her last opportunity to escape. She tried to stand with shaky legs, but Maisie was quick. She got off her knees and placed her hand on Alice's shoulder, forcing her back down into the chair. She did not lean away from Alice. Instead, her fingers ran along the silver chain of Alice's necklace.

Looking back over at Miles, I could see he was searching through the kitchen drawers.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

He did not answer. Shaking his head, he slammed the drawers shut. He grabbed one of the large knives out of the block, and a small smile formed on his lips. Was he going to drag this out? Was he going to let his years of anger be unleashed during her death? He made Oliver suffer while he killed him on our front lawn a few years ago.

"If you make a mess, you have to clean it," I said.

Miles gave his head a slight nod as he walked over to Alice. Maisie was still leaning over Alice, focused on her necklace. When Miles came close to them, he brushed a few stray strands of Maisie's blonde hair behind her ear.

Maisie looked up at him. Her eyes were soft, and there was no trace of fear in her dark blue irises. Miles grazed the back of his knuckles across her cheek. The moment seemed so sweet and almost made me forget about the girl sobbing and pleading for her life.

"Da-da!"

Jasper's voice broke the moment between Maise and Miles. I craned my neck to look past them and saw Jasper standing in the kitchen doorway. He was holding onto the wall with one hand, and two fingers were in his mouth with his other hand. His lips were spread into a wide smile, not phased by all the noise happening in the kitchen.

Maisie rushed over to Jasper and picked him up, setting him on her hip. She placed her hand on the side of his head so she could block his view.

"I will bring him upstairs," she said.

"Da-da," Jasper said again as he wiggled in her grip, but she kept his vision blocked.

Miles's smile grew into a look of genuine happiness. The expression almost seemed foreign on his face. Jasper always managed to crack his unreadable mask, but he rarely lit up into a wide smile. Maisie kept Jasper close to her chest as she hurried up the staircase to their room.

The smile disappeared when he looked back at Alice. Her body violently shook with each sob. He stood in silence as he watched her suffer.

"Why is she here?" I asked.

"She was asking about Oliver," Miles said.

I shook my head as I ran my hand along my jaw. When we were in town last week, Patti said Alice was still upset about Oliver's death. Did Edith tell her that they had seen us in town? Did that prompt her to come here and start asking questions? She should have known that coming here was not a good idea. Oliver made the same mistake. We had to keep our family safe.

"She liked Maisie. She said she was beautiful," Miles said. "No one thinks she is real."

I furrowed my brows as I watched him step closer to Alice. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. She squeezed her eyes shut, but tears were still rolling down her cheeks. Her sobs calmed enough for me to hear her muttering prayers.

"No one believes I could have someone like Maisie," Miles said.

He swung is arm down, burying the blade into Alice's abdomen. She tried to lean forward as she screamed, but Miles's grip on her hair forced her to sit straight. Blood sprayed across his shirt as he ripped the knife out of her body. In swift movements, he stabbed her over and over again. Alice's screams quieted after the knife plunged into her chest the second time. A crimson pool was forming under the chair as it dripped onto the floor.

When she stopped breathing, Miles let go of his grip on her hair. The blood splattered across his face smeared as he rubbed the back of his arm across his forehead.

"Clean this up," I told him. "I will go check on Maisie and Jasper."

Miles nodded and set the knife on the table. The front of his shirt was soaked in Alice's blood. Drops of crimson rolled down his tanned skin. It had been a long time since I had seen him covered in blood. He managed to hide whoever he had been killing.

"I will go check on them," Miles said.

"You?" I asked. "You are a mess right now."

Miles looked down at himself before wiping his hands on his pants. He was silent as he reached for Alice. His fingers fumbled with the clasp on the back of her necklace. I furrowed my brows as I watched him grasp the heart-shaped pendant before rushing up the staircase to the bedroom.

Alice's dead body was slumped in the chair, but the puddle of blood was growing larger underneath her chair. Miles would have to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning this mess, and there were still many chores left to do.

There was no crying or screaming upstairs from Maisie as I left the house to continue the work that needed to be done.