“I’m going to untie you.” I knelt behind Laurel and released her wrists. I unbound the gag and she coughed, spitting, rubbing her wrists and face. “Are you okay?”
She was trembling and pale but she hugged me. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
I hugged her back and when we broke apart, she looked expectantly at her father.
I followed her gaze and knew what she wanted. But I had a different plan in mind.
I walked around behind Uncle Cedric and removed his gag. He groaned, grateful, and spit to the side. “Disgusting,” he said. “They found that on the ground.” I dropped it on an empty, ancient, decomposing fast food bag. “Can you untie my wrists?” he asked.
Laurel moved to help him. I held up a hand, stopping her. “I want to ask you something first,” I said.
“Melanie,” Laurel said. She sounded aghast. “What are you doing.”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to hear this.”
She was shaking harder. “It isn’t safe. If they come back—”
“There are ten armed and dangerous men standing outside of this room, prepared to die to keep us safe. We’re fine.” I turned back to Uncle Cedric. He stared at me with narrowed, shrewd eyes. “I want the truth now, Uncle.”
He tilted his head. “Truth about what?”
“I want you to admit to me and your daughter that you murdered your father thirty years ago and blackmailed my mother into running away.”
His eyes went wide. Laurel’s mouth fell open and she stiffened like I’d shocked her.
“What are you talking about?” Laurel said, looking at her father. “Is she serious, Dad?”
“Tell her,” I said, nodding at him. “Go ahead. Lie to her, tell her you didn’t do it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, sounding exhausted. “I didn’t kill my father.”
“Liar,” I growled, stepping closer. I didn’t know what I’d do to get him to talk, but I felt so much anger bubbling inside of me. I was afraid it would spill out and hurt him. “You killed him. I have my mother’s diary from the time. I know he was abusive. I know he hurt you both. He deserved it, didn’t he? But what I don’t understand is why you’d then turn around and destroy my mother. Was it for the inheritance?”
“I didn’t destroy your mother. She didn’t leave because of me.”
“Liar. If you keep lying, I’ll call Nervosa in here.” I leaned down, staring into my uncle’s eyes. “If you think Silvano was bad, Nervosa is so much worse. But you know that already, don’t you?”
He paled and looked down at the floor. “Please, Melanie. I didn’t kill my father. I didn’t hurt your mother.”
“Then why did she run away? Why did Granddad end up dead? Why did my mother write about that night in her diary like something important had happened? You killed him and you threatened my mother with it. You said you’d pin it on her, and she believed you. She ran and you got everything.”
“No, that’s not how it went down.”
“Admit it,” I screamed in his face, trembling head to toe. “Tell your daughter you’re a fucking murderer.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Uncle Cedric said, voice rising.
“Liar. You’re a sick, pathetic liar. Tell me the truth!”
“It was her idea!”
The words made me take a step back. His eyes were wide and wild, and he stared at me like he was seeing a ghost.
“What?” I asked quietly.
“It was her idea. She came to me and said we could do it. Daddy started drinking even more, and every night he fell asleep in his office, lying on his couch. She said all we had to do was go in there, cover his face with a pillow, and nobody would ever know. Nobody would suspect. He was a bastard. He was an alcoholic. Everyone would assume he died because of the way he treated himself. It was all her idea.”
I stood frozen in place, hands and feet tingling. “Go on,” I whispered, glancing at Laurel. She seemed as terrified as I felt.
Tears streamed down Uncle Cedric’s face. “I thought she went crazy, but she kept asking me about it. Every night, it was the same thing. Dad would beat one of us to hell then pass out. She’d come into my room and we’d talk and talk and talk, until one night, she said she was done talking and left. I followed her, and I didn’t think she’d really go through with it, I swear I didn’t. But when I walked into that office, she already had the pillow over his face.” He stopped talking, a wretched sob escaping his throat.
I couldn’t believe it. My mother. It was her, this whole time. Uncle Cedric hadn’t killed grandfather—Mother did. That was why she left. That was why she got nothing.
All this time, I chased a ghost, and for nothing.