❝ She's in my head and has you on her radar. You either leave and forget who I ever was, or live to kill me. ❞
❝ Is there a third option that doesn't involve losing you? ❞
. . . in which Rhea's fear of her own mother becomes so unruly that a masked...
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"ONLY AFTER I'M done with my mother." That was her plan.
Rhea wanted to turn her mother in before doing so herself. But the unruly had something else in mind for them. In fact, everything was all falling into place way too perfectly.
She paced back and forth, Peter's cold words from yesterday's night ringing in her ears. She surveyed her bedroom furnished on a meagre budget, thinking of how much she would miss it when it's replaced with a dull, concrete box, and thick, steel bars as windows, possibly living with another inmate who would see her as too young to murder, but she did it anyway.
"You had a bright future", they would say. But what good are those words when her future was dictated by anyone but her?
Finally hearing the door slam shut outside, that was her signal: Mom was home with a confession for her to extract.
Rhea rushed out, barely recognising her own mother. Puffy eyes, tear-streaked face, sobbing as if the ferocity of it might bring Aiden back; as if by the sheer force of her grief, news of his death would be undone.
And that infuriated her. She hadn't cried like that when Dad died. Oh how much her anger craved for destruction. How much she wished to shut her up for good. How much-
Focus. But the plan must go on.
"Mom?" Rhea tried to ignore her sobs as she now sat against the wall, unmoving. Unblinking. Unthinking. "Mom."
Shut the hell up and listen to me. Rhea's knuckles were turning white, gripping onto her phone so tightly that it wasn't implausible if it were to snap in half.
Play it cool, Rhea. And the unruly was getting anxious.
"I'm... sorry. For your loss."
Lydia's eyes were distant, having lost sight of what is and what could have been. Her every atom screaming painfully in unison, afraid that she would exist without Aiden Mills. Her source of income. Her source of transitional love.
"You know," Rhea began, a slight smirk pulling at the end of her lips, "If only you mourned like this when Dad died."
Rhea knew she was detonating a ticking time bomb when she decided to say that. She knew it all too well. And so, she pressed record on her phone just on time-
-to expose oh-so-murderous Lydia Abner.
"You fucking bitch!" She lurched at her daughter, her raw voice brutal against Rhea's ear. Shoving her onto the cold, tiled floor, Lydia wrapped her slender fingers around her neck. Not so tight that Rhea wouldn't be able to force a word out, but tight enough to make her fear for her life.
"You... k...illed... hi...m!" She gritted, her head spun as she gasped for air that wasn't there. She clawed her hands towards her mother's face, thrashing and bucking under her much stronger build.
"I didn't!" Lydia screamed, continuing to squeeze her throat without even knowing, "He's useless! So, so useless! I just wanted him gone! I didn't mean it... I didn't-"
"Ad...mit it." Her voice was a mere ragged breath, her face turning into a sickening colour as darkness started to close in on her.
Lydia swallowed hard at the sight, immediately letting go of her and backing away from who could've been her next murder victim. Another accident to stage. Her own daughter.
Rhea was hacking and coughing, the sudden rush of oxygen burning her deprived lungs and lighting her panicked brain on fire, while the ghost of her mother's fingers appeared dark-purplish on her skin. That wasn't enough to stop her from getting a full confession. "So..." her voice was scratchy, hoarse, and it felt like her oesophagus was bleeding out from open cuts. "Did you?"
Lydia stared at her, horrified of what she did, and even more so of how blood-curdling Rhea looked, like it wasn't her at all. She was a wolf hunting for prey, except its den was already full of corpses prepared for a never-ending, greed-fuelled feast.
Lydia was just an insignificant, small hare in front of a blood-covered alpha wolf.
Gulping, she sat limp on the ground, too afraid to meet her hungry eyes. "I did. I killed him."
