Control Freak ✔️

24 juneau

It was a pretty small turnout at the viewing. Crystal didn't have many real friends, after all. Most of the people there were actually business associates of Caleb's father. She lay there alone in her lily white casket and lacy white dress, her fake boobs still standing high and proud out of her neckline. Caleb's father sat in a fold-out chair in the front row, closest to the casket. Caleb sat next to him with his hand around his shoulder as he hung his sullen head. His mom was there, too, though Caleb's father wouldn't acknowledge her. So, she remained in a seat in the back. People trickled in, each performing the nearly vapid ritual of approaching the stranger's casket, standing there quietly with folded hands for awhile, and then coming to the widower to offer stock condolences.

A familiar voice greeted her from the door. Caleb watched his golden-haired girlfriend drape her arms around his mother, beaming with a comforting smile.

"Excuse me for a second, dad," he whispered, pulling himself away as he realized his hand was shaking. He stalked toward Ivy and his mother. Without warning, he took her by the arm and dragged her out of the room.

"Hello, Mr. Morris," a sultry, yet unfamiliar voice crooned in his ear. He turned, not sure who to expect. She rubbed his arm as she invited herself to have a seat next to him. She was in a tight black dress with her tits hoisted high and a massive amount of cleavage showing. Her brown eyes sparkled as she beamed a warm, toothy smile and her eyebrows feigned concern.

"I don't believe we've met."

"No, I don't think we have. My name is Lauren Lockhart." Mr. Morris let the side of his mouth wiggle into a subtle but lascivious smirk.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"My stepmom is dead," he hissed.

"So?"

"'So?' 'So!' What do you mean 'so!' She was my stepmom!"

"She's, like, five years older than you."

"That's not the point, Ivy!"

"Does it really matter?"

"You—" he spat, choking on his words. "Ivy, you. Did you do this? Did you... your own parents?"

"What?" she bleated softly. "What do you mean?"

"Ivy, this is so fucked up. You are seriously FUCKED UP!"

"Caleb, I—"

"You need to go," he cut her off. His fists were shaking.

"But, Caleb..."

"Ivy, seriously, I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Go."

"Kaylub," she whined.

"Stay away from me and my family," he growled. "You—psycho!"

He turned his back on her, as her eyes began to glisten. She covered her face and sobbed. Still, he left her there, alone in the hallway to catch her tears.

* * *

"I appreciate you coming in, Mr. Morris," Seguerra said as he greeted Caleb's father. "I know this is a difficult time for you. And frankly, what I've got to tell you might just make it even more difficult. But it's important."

"What did the autopsy reveal?"

Seguerra took a deep breath. "She was poisoned," he sighed. "Using a somewhat slow-acting poison. Her afternoon jog caused the toxin to move through her bloodstream faster, until her lungs seized up and her entire respiratory system failed. From the time of ingestion to the time she died, we estimate a window of about 40 minutes."