Mum deleted the message she sent her from my phone, but I know where she’ll take her.
To where it all started. The fucking pool.
I told Sebastian how I stumbled upon Mum’s special edition version of her new book — the one she said she won’t release — and I had to read it because I’m a fan of her work.
I told him about the pictures and everything in between. I told him how she wrote her life into Gav’s personality, and how she’s used her alter ego to be a part of every story she’s written.
The Killer and the Father.
Serial CEO.
The Doll Maker.Cynthia. She wrote an entire book about her and made her a serial killer.
I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve found the stash of unused pills she eventually flushed down the toilet. I should’ve stopped to question the manic way she wrote on her plotting board.
I should’ve gone with her on those jogs instead of believing it was her ‘me’ time.
I should’ve noticed more.
But then again, I couldn’t have. Mum lived her double life so perfectly, it’s crazy.
Yes, it is. Crazy. My mum is a criminally insane person, and the weight of that realisation hits me like a brick wall.
But that’s not the reason for the heaviness in my chest.
It’s the fact that she lured Silver here. That she’s been watching her for years.
She noticed her the first time I did in that fucking park. She followed me, to make sure I hadn’t seen her kill William, and then she found her doll.
Her crying doll who’s even more beautiful than her previous plastic doll.
I led her to Silver.
I’m the one who made her stop seeing Silver as Cynthia and Sebastian’s daughter, but her long-lost doll.
It was me.
“You have to be careful,” Sebastian says. His face is hard, but he keeps a cool head. “From what we’ve learnt thus far, she’s unpredictable.”
I nod as we hurry to the pool area. He’s carrying his gun in case anything happens. He called Frederic during the drive, and his head of PR said he’ll meet us here.
“Doll?” Mum calls in a serene voice. “Come out. Stop hiding.”
I stop near the pool. A body floats in the water. Red water.
Blood water.
Her golden strands float around her while she remains unmoving.
Like that day.
Just like that day.
Run, Cole.
My father’s scratchy, drowning voice plays in my head like a distorted record.
“Oh, Cole, darling.” Mum smiles, her eyes kind. She’s always looked so kind and approachable. She’s never had a malicious look or action. At least, not on the surface. “Silver is playing hide-and-seek.”
“Silver!” Sebastian runs towards the pool, but I beat him to it and jump in.
It takes everything in me to ignore the blood changing the colour of the water as I grab her by the arm and wrench her to the edge.
Her face has paled. Her chest doesn’t move up and down.
She’s not breathing. Fuck.
“Silver!” My hand shakes as I pull my palm away and see the blood oozing from the back of her head, turning her blonde hair red.
I lay her on the tiles and press down on her chest.
Come on, Silver. Come on, you can’t leave me!
Please don’t fucking leave me.
“M-my doll?” Helen runs towards us. “Why isn’t she smiling?”
Sebastian blocks her way, pointing his gun at her head. “Stay the hell away from my daughter.”
“Sebastian, can’t you see? She needs me. My doll needs her master.”
“Not a move, Helen,” he growls.
“Or what?” She tilts her head to the side. “You’ll kill me? We both know you can’t do that. Let me see my doll.”
I continue pressing on Silver’s chest. Her lips are turning purple. With every second passing, she’s dying.
Every single second, she’s slipping through my fingers.
A shriek comes from Mum, but I don’t look at her. I don’t pay her attention. Then I hear her wresting with Sebastian for the gun, but all I care about is Silver.
Come on. Come on.
“Leave her alone.” Mum stands above me, holding the gun. “Let her go. You’re killing her, Cole.”
“You killed her! You did!”
“No.” She shakes her head frantically, stepping back. “I didn’t. It’s not me. It’s not —”
Her words are cut off as she trips. Her head bumps against the railing of the pool with a sickening thud, and then she falls down…
Down.
Down.
Her blood turns the water crimson.
She doesn’t float.
Neither Sebastian nor I move to help her.
I’m still compressing Silver’s chest, my own chest feeling as if it’s clearing out of oxygen.
She doesn’t open her eyes.
She doesn’t respond.
That day, the doll dies.
Silver
It’s strange how fast things can end.
One moment you’re there, in the middle of your happiest moments, and the next, everything ends.
Not really, though.
It’s been two weeks since everything went down. Since Helen turned out to be a psychopath who had an obsession with me.
Who hurt other women so she wouldn’t hurt me.
Who wrote books so she wouldn’t kill the other women as much as she wanted to.
A part of me died that day. The part that believed in Helen. The part who loved her and felt sorry for her.
As that part died, Cole revived me back to life.
I took my first breath of resurrection the moment after she died.
A death for a life.
We didn’t go to the hospital, though. Frederic brought the hospital to me — or rather, a team of doctors. He made them all sign NDAs that would cost them three generations of intensive labour if they were to disclose anything.
I ended up with a few stitches and a sore, scratchy throat, but that’s not the pain that’s stayed with me.
It’s everything else.
It’s the fact that I didn’t see Cole after that day.
The fact that he’s not answering my calls or talking to me.
The fact that he told me through Papa that he’s moving out until he has to go to university.
The fact that he didn’t let me console him or be there for him.
Even during Helen’s funeral, he nodded at us, accepted my parents’ condolences, and spent the entire day with his arsehole friends. And while I was glad he had someone by his side, I wanted that someone to be me, not Aiden, Xander, and Ronan.
Police procedures didn’t take long to be wrapped up. Frederic worked his magic on all the media play and it was labelled as an accident.
Papa wanted Helen exposed, but Frederic and Mum talked him out of it. He’ll have no chance to stay in politics if he does that.
If he’s known to have been married to a psycho, a serial attacker who threatened his daughter’s life under his own roof, he’ll be shunned forever and our lives will turn into hell.
However, if he’s known to have lost his wife during his campaign due to an accident, he’ll gain sympathy.
“And I’ll pretend to console you,” Mum said. “Then everyone will say I suit you better than that bitch who, by the way, I said was a psycho. I can’t believe she hurt my baby.”
She hugged me to death then. Mum has been hugging me every night and has practically moved back in with us.
Her and Papa’s affection and consolation help, but they don’t close the hole in my chest. They don’t heal the wound that’s been open since that day.
A wound that burns and makes me cry every night.
So today, I decide to close that wound myself.
I go to him.