Chapter 6 - The Aftermath
The heavy silence outside the panic room was agonizing. Ten minutes passed. Then, twenty.
Finally, a heavy knock echoed on the steel door. "Clara," a hoarse, exhausted voice called out. "It's me. Open the door."
Clara threw the deadbolt. Arthur stood there, his white dress shirt torn and stained with blood. The police sirens were wailing in the distance. He dropped to his knees, pulling Clara and both of his daughters into a crushing, desperate embrace.
"Julian?" Clara whispered into his shoulder.
"Arrested," Arthur breathed, burying his face in her neck. "It's over. They're all gone."
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That night, in the hospital while Arthur was getting stitched up, Vivian arrived. She had heard the news of her son's arrest and her daughter's true cause of death. The arrogant, untouchable socialite looked completely broken.
She looked at Clara, who was sitting beside Arthur’s bed, holding his hand while the twins slept on a nearby cot. Vivian didn't hurl insults. She just wept, realizing her own blind ambition had blinded her to the monsters in her own family, and the angel sitting right in front of her.
