Sandra’s POVAs soon as I jump in through the open window, a wave of adrenaline courses through me. I find myself in a corridor that stretches out before me, a maze of uncertainty and fear.I start walking forward slowly, my heart pounding in my chest, trying to remain hidden from view.This hospital is a private one, and naturally, I expect even tighter security than in government-owned hospitals. Every corner is monitored by CCTV cameras, capturing my every move. Thankfully, I’m not a criminal carrying a weapon, but the pressure of not getting caught weighs heavily on me.I walk down the corridor to the end, my nerves frayed, and then turn right, facing another long corridor. The vastness of this place, though overwhelming, doesn’t concern me right now. My only focus is finding Brandon and checking on him.The urgency makes me walk faster, and my anxiety pushes me forward. I’m no longer worried about being seen; my only concern is reaching Brandon.But deep down, I’m still very cauti
Tyler’s POVWe are in a place they call the mess hall when I see on the old, flickering TV that Alessandra has been shot. The mess hall is grim, a stark reminder of our confined existence here. The food is barely edible—just enough to sustain us but never to satisfy. As the news report flashes on the screen, my pulse quickens. A dark smirk tugs at my lips. This moment, so anticipated, is finally here. I can hardly believe it. My heart races with a mix of excitement and anticipation. I’ve been waiting for this, savoring the thought of Alessandra finally getting what she deserves. The cruel irony of seeing her on this low-quality TV, surrounded by the dreariness of prison life, almost seems fitting.The newscaster’s voice drifts over the room, detailing the incident. My mind races with calculations and possibilities. Alessandra has been hit, but it’s not the fatal blow I hoped for. The news says she was struck in the shoulder. My satisfaction turns to frustration. How could the hired h
Sandra’s POVAs I leave the hospital, the pain in my heart feels almost unbearable, like it might shatter at any moment. Every step I take towards my car feels like a step into a void, my emotions swirling uncontrollably. Then, I force myself to climb in and start the engine, my hands trembling on the wheel, and I drive quickly, desperate to put as much distance between myself and the hospital as possible.But my frantic escape isn’t just about avoiding unwanted gazes. I have a more pressing destination: the prison where Tyler is locked away. I need to confront him, and nothing will stand in my way.When I reach the prison, the heavy gate creaks open, and I am greeted by the stern-faced guards, who inform me that visits are strictly regulated. I can only see a prisoner on their designated visiting day. My heart sinks, but I refuse to let it show. I need to see Tyler now, and I need to find a way to bend the rules.“Do you know who I am?” I ask the officer, my voice strained but determ
Alessandra’s POVBrandon and I were still in the hospital when we saw the news. In fact, I don’t even know how to describe how I feel when I see it. There is no doubt that the news is, in fact, a sudden blow to everyone. Brandon, on the other hand, is even more shocked. “Who on earth murdered Tyler, and why?” he exclaims as we continue watching the news.The newscaster and the reporter at the murder scene have done their best to give us detailed coverage, but the news is incomplete without knowing who the murderer is. But, of course, that’s prison life. We all know that any murder that takes place there rarely makes it to the news. And the ones that do are usually because the person is either famous or a known terrorist before imprisonment, like Tyler, who was involved in a controversial topic with me before he went to prison.The same level of shock on Brandon’s face isn’t on mine, though. I mean, it’s not that difficult to figure out who killed Tyler. Just think about it—Tyler is th
Diana’s POVI am sitting in front of the TV while Olivia and Emily help me with my manicure. It doesn’t matter if our place looks nice, shabby, or even tattered; having peace of mind and being content is the medicine that keeps us going.This, of course, is something I am forced to learn after the incident with my son, Tyler, who threw us out of the home we used to live in with him.Well, that’s gone. I cannot hold grudges against my son, especially when we all see how life is dealing with him mercilessly these days.Maybe it is even karma. We did Alessandra a lot of harm, and though we pleaded for forgiveness, it didn’t stop Tyler from ending up in prison. And for us, it didn’t stop us from getting even poorer.Today, I am seated in front of the TV while Emily and Olivia help with my manicure. In my hand is a warm cup of tea in a plastic cup with a broken handle.Sitting in front of the TV, I’m only half-watching a movie when I suddenly feel the urge to change the channel.I can’t exp
Sandra’s POVSeeing the news spread like wildfire across the city, state, and country makes me realize just how popular Tyler was. I wasn’t expecting such loud, relentless coverage about his murder, and it makes me scared, thinking I might be exposed so soon.But then I hear what the prison officer says in the interview, and a wave of relief washes over me. My muscles, tense and coiled like a spring, finally start to unwind. I know my secret is safe with him. The thought brings a twisted sense of satisfaction—a dark comfort in knowing that the jailer, even while being asked questions, will keep my secret sealed away.What did I whisper to the jailer that made him so corporate, so eager, that he handed me the gun to take down Tyler? It’s all so clear, he was desperate, and I knew exactly which strings to pull to get what I wanted.People will do unbelievable things for money, and those things often involve compromising everything they once stood for. I’ve seen it time and time again—th
Diana’s POVEverything we need to do is take away what Alessandra loves most, make her feel the way we feel, and when she’s at her lowest, that’s the perfect time to strike. To this end, the research isn’t deep on what we need to do to take down Brandon before Alessandra takes the real fall. All we have to do is use what has already toppled so many others’ favorites and announce that Brandon is guilty of it too, then let the people cancel him. Scoff.“You’re getting confused. Don’t be. I’ll explain thoroughly. Now, let’s go back to history,” I say to my daughter at this moment, my voice calm but laced with the cold determination that drives me. And by doing so, they both wipe their faces and grab a seat to listen to me. Thus, I begin to narrate.Far back in history, there was this popular dancer named Micah Johnson. He dances so well on stage that people faint whenever he performs. He is regarded as the king of dance, and soon enough, he begins to sing. Everyone can’t help but see th
Diana’s POVWhile Emily is gone to bring Jeruel to me, Olivia and I continue to sit by the TV, the air thick with anticipation. My fingers drum against the armrest, a sign of the impatience brewing inside me. The low hum of the TV fills the room until, suddenly, Brandon’s face appears on the screen, his smile carefree and untroubled. A surge of anger flares within me as I watch him so casually seated in front of the reporters.Increasing the volume of the TV, my hand trembles slightly as we hear him speak, loud and clear.“Mr. Brandon Biden, would you say surviving the gunshot at your wedding with Matriarch Alessandra was luck, or did you skillfully avoid the bullet so it didn’t hit your heart?” The interviewer’s voice cuts through the room, her tone probing, almost eager for his response.“C’mon,” we hear him laugh before he speaks. “I’m not someone with self-defense skills. I’m not a martial arts expert either, so how could I have dodged a bullet? All I did was try to save Alessand