Too Close To Home - By Maureen Tan Page 0,99

when it struck her in the chest.

For a heartbeat, she stood, eyes widening with surprise. And then her legs folded beneath her.

Gran screamed. An agonized scream.

I crawled, still gasping, to my sister.

Blood spread outward from the hole in her chest.

Aunt Lucy was already on her knees, pressing her hands against the wound. Trying to stop the flow of blood. For a moment, she turned her face toward me. And in it I saw the hopelessness I already felt.

My grandmother was just standing there, staring at us.

“Call an ambulance,” Aunt Lucy said. “Hurry!”

Gran went to make the call, but I knew they’d never reach us in time.

“We heard the shot,” Aunt Lucy said to me. “Katie ran in to help you. And I followed her.”

“You see,” Katie whispered breathlessly. “I am brave.”

“Yes, I know you are,” I said as I cradled her head in my lap. “You’ve always been brave. Ever since you were little. When you saved me.”

She smiled at that. Pale, pink foam dribbled from the corners of her mouth. And I knew that this time the blood filling her lungs—not her asthma—was robbing her of oxygen.

“I know you kept the secret,” she gasped. “You didn’t tell anyone that Gran killed Momma. So I’ll tell you another secret. One that even Gran doesn’t know. She said just to leave her. Out in the woods. But I was brave then, too. I went back all by myself. I found a good place for her.”

And the stress, I realized, had triggered an asthma attack. She must have used her inhaler and then lost it. Next to our mother’s body.

Katie died in my arms.

Aunt Lucy was sobbing, huddled in beside me, when Gran walked from the bedroom. She stood in front of us with the gun that had killed my sister still in her hand, dangling again at her side.

“It was an accident,” she said softly. “I never meant—”

Aunt Lucy lifted her head, her voice making her next words an accusation.

“And Lydia?”

“I did what I had to,” Gran said, and the old defiance—the old strength—returned to her voice and stiffened her back. “She said you hadn’t given her enough money. That she needed at least ten thousand dollars or she’d take the girls away from us. Because that’s what she thought they could earn for her once they were properly broken in.”

I hadn’t known I could hurt so much inside.

Hadn’t thought I could hurt any more that I already did.

I was wrong.

“Katie overheard me talking with Lydia. Arranging a meeting. And she followed me. Saw what happened. But she understood that I had to do it. Lydia was a terrible mother who didn’t care about her children. She had to be punished.”

I recognized the words. Remembered that Katie had said something much like that the night she’d murdered Missy. A year after she’d witnessed our mother’s murder.

That was when I decided that our family legacy—a legacy of lies and murder—would end here.

As gently as I could, I shifted my sister’s body onto the carpet. Then I stood, stepped forward and took the gun from my grandmother.

She didn’t resist, didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m arresting you for murder,” I said.

That was when Gran laid her sinewy hands on my arm. Grasped me with her strong fingers.

“You’ll destroy the Underground,” she said urgently. “Think about the women, Brooke. The women will suffer.”

I shook my head, though I knew that she was right. But I also knew that my grandmother was insane. I prayed that a good lawyer could prove just that. And perhaps save her life.

“I don’t have a choice,” I said.

“I’ll give you one,” Gran said. She released my arm as she turned her attention to my aunt. “You’re a good girl, Lucy. And Brooke is still young. You help her make the decisions she needs to. In the meantime, I’m going to take a walk in the park. The breeze on the bluff will be lovely right now. And the view of the river always makes me feel so peaceful.”

Then Gran turned her back on us. On the gun I held. On her daughter. On her granddaughters.

I took a step forward, knowing what she intended.

Aunt Lucy stopped me.

“Let her go, Brooke,” she said in a voice that was rough with tears. “Let her go.”

Gran held her head high as she walked down the long hall. And she kept talking, giving us directions. Guiding the Underground.

“Katie’s death was an accident,” she said, “caused by a stupid, arrogant old woman. Your Gran thought that

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