Chapter 115

115

Hated Heather? No. He had never hated her. Not really. He had always understood what motivated her.

Her family.

He would give her that—Heather had always loved her family more than anything in the world. Adored them.

Just like Angela.

Angela's eyes were looking at him now.

"You look like her now. Like my Angela. More…than you did before. It hurts. You sound like her too. Especially when you…laugh."

"I know," Heather said softly. In a voice that sounded just like Angela's. "It shocked me when I looked in the mirror one day and saw her staring back at me. I bawled for more than an hour. I miss her every single day. I probably always will."

"Me too." Even the way she tilted her head was her older sister all over again. There were noticeable differences—Heather's hair was several shades lighter than Angela's had been. She and Angela had had different mothers. Heather's hair had wave in it that Angela's hadn't had—Heather's mother had had wild curly, blond hair. Like Jasmine Joy's. But that same beautiful face…Her eyes were darker, he thought.

She had far more intensity than Angela.

Angela had been so quiet, so reserved.

Heather hadn't been the least reserved. Maybe that had been what it was. Everyone had always just watched Heather.

The star. The center of the universe, was this one. Angela had adored her. All of the girls, really. Some of his best memories were of Angela and her sisters. And their girls.

What he had lost was always a sharp, sharp knife.

Heather was just watching him now. Like Leena watched him sometimes. His Leena—she liked to be the star too. Dancing, singing.

Just like Heather had at that age. Always performing. Leena acted so much like Heather it had always perplexed him so much. "Heather, what…what are we doing here now?"

"I think that's a question best answered by Timmy Three. I know he has friends in this house. And I also know that…this is not what you want. Are you a killer, too, Timothy?"

He was. Yes, he was. That drug…had killed people. Because of him. Because once he realized what Trey and the others had done, he had not done anything to stop them. He had just kept his mouth shut.

Watched. Useless.

Known Trey was doing monstrous things. But Trey was his son and he'd wanted nothing more than to protect him.

At the cost of other people's children.

He would never forgive himself that.

Could never look himself in the eye. Knowing that his work had led to the deaths of so many young people.

"I never intended for Sopalmitraln to take lives. I thought I was helping the world, Heather Holly. Like Andrew did. I just wanted to leave a legacy. For my children. All of them. I wanted them to be proud of me. Like you girls were of Andrew." Tears stung his eyes. As he just remembered. "I never…I didn't know Trey and his friends had turned it into this OPJ until several years later. By then…it was too late."

"Nothing is ever too late, Daddy," Trey said. Of course. His son wanted to be the center of attention. "I have lots of money riding on this OPJ. It's my legacy, right? Just like Grandpa Andrew had his legacy for that heart meds he made. Mine is just a lot more fun. Grandpa Andrew was always such a serious schmuck. Never any fun."

His son was such a monster at times.

Trey always had wanted all eyes on him too.

Maybe that had been the problem with Trey all those years. He had had all of Timothy's attention for almost six years. Then Timothy had married Angela, and Trey had been thrust into a family with so many other kids. He'd felt left out or something. And then Eden had come along not even a year after Timothy and Angela had married.

Maybe Trey had never found his place again? Timothy's fault. It was all Timothy's fault again.

"How long are we going to play this little chitchat game?" Heather asked coolly. Her hand hadn't shaken even once on that gun.

The gun she had pointed right at Trey now. If she squeezed that trigger, Timothy's son was dead.

He would watch his son die right in front of him.

Timothy did what he had to do—he was a father, after all. He put himself in front of his son. Protecting Trey like he always would. Even though Trey was the monster in so many nightmares now.

"As long as it takes, Auntie Heather, as long as it takes." Trey yanked the Barratt girl closer. The girl cried out.

She was so afraid. Her fear cut into Timothy's heart completely. Angela…Angela had looked that afraid right after she'd been diagnosed. When they'd known she wouldn't be there to watch their daughters grow up. Or her sisters.

That had been one of the darkest moments of Timothy's life. When he had known he would lose Angela, no matter what he did to stop it. This girl had one hand over her stomach, where her precious baby grew now. "Trey…let that poor girl go. She's never hurt you. Not once. Just let her go. Let's leave. Before it's too late."

Timothy wasn't a fool.

Everything had changed when Heather walked in. Completely.