Chapter 40

Her sister?

My terrified eyes stay on her as she saunters across the room to the suitcase in the corner. Unzipping the front pocket, she slides out a framed photo and heads back to me.

She holds it up. “Remember her?”

It’s a full-color headshot. I remember it well. The pain-in-the-ass girl wanted me to give it to my mother’s agent. The young woman in the photo with her long wavy blonde hair and pale-blue eyes could almost be Marley’s twin.

“A dead ringer for me.” Her voice softens; her eyes water. “My one and only sister. My beautiful big sister, who I revered and adored.”

She hugs the photo to her chest. Her voice grows louder, sharper. “You could turn on the charm then as well as you can turn it on now. I don’t mean ‘now now,’ but you know what I mean. She thought she had found her Prince Charming. Especially since you came from Hollywood royalty. She was in awe of your parents, especially your mother. She couldn’t believe that Isabelle Laurent, the legendary French actress, was your mother. She was in love with you. I still have the letters she sent to my mother. Let me read you one.”

I watch as she strides back to the suitcase and slides the photo back inside the outer pocket before retrieving a folded piece of lined yellow paper. The kind a schoolgirl might use to write a composition. She unfolds it and casts her eyes at the words.

Dearest Mama~

I am so, so happy. I met this really cute, super smart guy. And guess who his mother is? That beautiful French actress we both love. Isabelle Laurent! He promises he’s going to introduce me to her and her director husband, Edward Sinclair. And their agent too!

This could be my big break! I’m so excited and I think I’m in love too!

The stars are shining brightly.

Write back soon! And give my love to my little sister.

Forever~ Your loving daughter

She folds the letter back up and slides it into the waistband of her cutoffs.

“Mama wrote back and told her to be careful. Not to fall for men like you. Don’t be a fool for a tool. But my sister was naive. Gullible. A starstruck virgin. You led her on and took advantage of her.”

In my spinning head, I remember she was an easy, compliant, convenient lay. And it was consensual.

“I know it was consensual, Ned, but she was only seventeen. Practically a child.”

She told me she was nineteen.

“You were twenty-one. Do you know what that means?”

I don’t have the physical wherewithal to shake my head. Or the capability to do any mental calculations. Or figure out the implications.

“It means you committed statutory rape. A felony. You should have gone to jail for that…maybe you still can.” She tugs at her lower lip. “But I’m going to spare you that and send you straight to hell. Where you really belong.”

God save me.

“Ned, you knocked her up. Impregnated her.”

I didn’t mean to. She told me she was using birth control. Maybe she was lying about that too.

“My sister was a churchgoing girl and wanted to keep the baby. She begged you to help pay for her medical expenses…and give a little child support until she got discovered. She was convinced she had a big career ahead of her. And she did! My sister was mega talented!” A pause. Her eyes narrow at me. “Do you know what you told her?”

I do, but I can’t utter a word. My tongue is tied and my jaw is locked. And not a single word can get past the raging fire at the base of my throat. She reminds me.

“‘Get rid of the baby!’ Then, ‘get lost,’ you told her. And then you ran to Daddy dearest. And begged him to help you. So pathetic.”

Gabe’s clever I-need-a-tutor ploy to get my father to wire money or write a check.

“Daddy gave you a check for five grand that you used to get her off your back. Make her disappear. You threatened if she ever harassed you again, she’d never work in this town. That you had connections.”

I did. That girl was a thorn in my side. Part of me even thought—the good actress she was—that she was fabricating the pregnancy to extort money out of me. A con artist. I never saw her again until…

Marley continues, her voice unwavering. “My mother was poor…a hardworking housekeeper. My sister was struggling. Five thousand dollars didn’t go far. She had no choice but to go to some derelict birthing clinic filled with rats and rusty equipment and illegal drugs. The doctor who performed her delivery was a butcher. He butchered both her and the baby. She hemorrhaged and the baby, a girl, died of strangulation. Her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. Six months later my poor grieving mother was also taken away from me and I, at the age of six, went into foster care.”

Fury fills her voice. Her eyes glint with madness. “You destroyed their lives! And you destroyed mine! You selfish arrogant bastard!”

She slinks closer to me, like a predator moving in on its prey.

“My sister, had she lived, would have achieved her dream. Become a big star…who knows, even have been represented by IMAGE.”

Her face darkens. “It’s all your fault she died! If you had given her more money for decent medical care, taken some responsibility, you wouldn’t be lying here.”

She stops dead in her tracks and glares at me.

“Men like you get everything…and get away with everything. You, Ned Sinclair, won’t.”

I try to swallow back my fear, but my throat hurts too much. My tonsils burn like logs crackling in a fireplace.

“Your parents paid the price. Your illustrious father for enabling you. Always covering up and buying you out of your messes. Your equally illustrious mother for looking the other way when it came to her precious son. Now, Ned, you have to pay.”

Now what?Fear like I’ve never known seeps into every pore. A cold wave of terror descends from the crown of my head past my torso to the tips of my limbs.

“You’ll be happy I injected you. You won’t feel a thing with the next thing I have planned. Though in retrospect…maybe I shouldn’t have spared you the pain.”

I can no longer shake in fear, or feel any pain. Yet, every molecule of my being is convulsing. And my brain is about to implode.

Marley sits back down on the bed, crisscrossing her long, tanned legs. She unwraps the napkin. If my unblinking eyes could, they’d grow as wide as silver dollars and pop out of their sockets. This is no cheese knife. It’s a bone-cutting meat cleaver! The foot-long blade is shaped like a shark’s fin.

“Ned, remember that movie I told you I was writing? The end is in sight.”

My end is in sight.

“Well, since I’m on a very tight schedule, I’m going to give you the elevator pitch…They hired her to take care of their baby. Not knowing she was there to ‘take care’ of them.”

She lowers the knife a millimeter.

“Too bad you won’t be around to get it made. But this is how it almost ends…”

My life is over. I’m hopeless, helpless, hapless.

The frightening metal blade descends upon me—oh, God, she’s going to chop off my manhood—and suddenly, I start convulsing like a fish out of water. Flopping madly. My mouth gaping, gulping. An unbearable pain thunders in my chest and breaks through the numbness. It’s like my heart wants to explode through my ribcage. The excruciating pain spreads like an oil spill to my arms, back, neck, and jaw. Even my teeth are killing me. Cold, tar-like sweat covers every inch of my being as I gasp desperately for air.

My eyes stay on Marley, who just sits there half-stunned, half-amused, the cleaver still in her gloved hand, while my life flashes before me.

She tsks. “It’s a shame, Ned, you won’t be able to see your beautiful daughter grow up. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s loved and well-taken care of.”

Isa. My perfect baby. With her soft dewy skin, rosebud lips, and silky tuft of buttery hair.

Then, I think of my mother, beautiful Maman, with her red-painted lips, lustrous golden hair, and warm breathy voice. All I want is to be curled up in her womb again, to be shrouded in her warmth. If I could, I’d cry like a baby.

They say you never know what you’re going to think about when you’re about to die.

“Je ne regrette rien,” Maman used to say.

I regret everything. Forgive me, God, for all the sins I’ve committed.

Forgive me, Ava, for the shitty husband I’ve been.

Forgive me, Isa, my sweet daughter, for…everything.

My unblinking eyes stay open as my world, like the end of a screenplay, fades to black.