He took a few swift steps forward and struck Maraâs wrist with a sudden flick of his hand. She let out a shriek as the knife clattered to the floor, her last weapon now gone.
Ivyâs smile was fragile, her face pale with the weakness that only comes after a long illness.
âIf I hadnât pushed you to your limits, how else would you have willingly walked into our trap, revealing your true colors like this? Oh, Mara, dear Mara, Iâve suspected you for so long, and now, at last, I have the proof. After killing your own sister for so many years, you still didnât get what you wanted in the end.â
Mara, taken aback, retorted, âWhat do you mean?â
âDonât you see? After all these years playing the doting sister, you still donât get it. The biggest difference between you two is her genuine kindness. And thatâs something you can never match.â
Mara scoffed, âDonât get ahead of yourself. After all those years as sisters, do you really think you understand her better than I do? Kindness? That was just a facade she put on for others, her greatest act. To the world, she was always the understanding, caring, and compassionate one, but the truth?
She drove me into a corner. Youâve never lived with her. You canât imagine how suffocating it was to share the same space with her. If it werenât for her, I wouldnât be on this path of no return. The man I loved never loved me back.â
Her eyes drifted to Balfour, but his attention was wholly fixed on Ivy, not sparing Mara a single glance.
A bitter ache filled her heart.
Ivy, watching Maraâs descent into mad desperation, offered a look of pity. âThatâs why I keep saying you never really knew your sister. You have no idea what she did, nor why your plot years ago went off Without a hitch.â
Mara sneered coldly, âDonât be so smug. You have no clue about what really happened back then.â
âReally? Then tell me, how did a girl like you, not yet of age, manage to stage the perfect scene? Why didnât the detectives pursue the inconsistencies? Do you think your acting was so convincing that you could fool everyone? If you believe that faking a suicide would stop an investigation, youâre sorely mistaken.â
Mara knew she had to stop Ivy from talking. She didnât understand the whole story; how could she possibly know the truth about what had happened back then?
She remembered the moment Victoriaâs breath slipped away in her arms, the sensation still vivid in her mind.
Had it all been too easy? From drugging the meal to staging the scene and then leaving her past behind to start anew, everything had been simpler than she expected. Even the police wrapped things up quickly.
Ivyâs words forced Mara to revisit those details once again. She never cooked; she admitted that between her and Victoria, it was always Victoria who took care of her more. That was her debt to repay.
That weekend, Mara had made an exception and cooked a Thanksgiving meal. It was a rare moment since their fatherâs death that the two sat down together for a proper dinner, let alone one prepared by her own hands.
Victoria must have been so touched; she truly believed Mara had forgiven her. Who could have guessed that the sweet poison was served by her sisterâs hand?
âMara, did you really make this yourself?â Victoriaâs eyes brimmed with tears, almost visibly etching the word âtouchedâ upon her face.
Mara nodded nonchalantly, âYeah, but it might not taste great. If itâs that bad, we could just get takeout.â
As she pretended to take the dish away, Victoria stopped her quickly, âOh, how could I mind? Itâs your first time cooking; of course, Iâm going to eat every last bite.â
Victoriaâs face shone with a rare, unguarded smile, believing that Mara had truly forgiven her. Despite their past fights and disagreements, even with their fatherâs health failing, they had still managed to walk forward, hand in hand.
She was grateful.