And after three years of running, our paths crossed again during a raid. He was the brilliant young detective leading the task force; I was the fugitive wanted for murder across eight states. Our eyes locked, and for a fleeting second, Jacob’s composure shattered. “Maren… how is this you?” I tried to bolt during his moment of hesitation, but one of his officers shot me in the calf. Now, in the interrogation room, Jacob’s eyes are bloodshot as he slams his hands on the table and roars: “Four lives, Maren! Four people are dead! How could you do this?” “Tell me it’s a mistake! Say something! Please, just tell me it wasn’t you!” Looking at the agonizing betrayal in his eyes, I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You’re right. It is a mistake.” “It wasn’t four.” “It was five.” “You care so much about your wife—my former best friend, Lola—don’t you? Tell me, Jacob, how haven’t you noticed she’s gone?” … Jacob’s face drains of all color. His hand trembles as he pulls out his phone. The lock screen, which used to be a picture of me, now features his wedding portrait with Lola. He hits speed dial. A second later, a melodic ringtone begins to drift from my jacket pocket. With a cruel, mocking smile, I slide the screen open and answer Lola’s blood-stained phone. “Hey, honey.” “Why aren’t you coming to save me? I’m so scared…” Jacob lunges across the table, grabbing me by the collar. “What did you do to Lola!” Just as the air begins to leave my lungs, the deputy chief rushes in and tears him off me. “Calm down, Detective! The press feed is live!” Jacob’s teeth grind together as he glares at me. “Where is she, Maren?” I shrug, the handcuffs rattling against the metal table. “I don’t know.” “If you’re smart enough to catch me, I’m sure you’re smart enough to find her.” “Maren Kelly!” His eyes are so red they look ready to bleed. “Lola loved you like a sister! When we were kids and those bullies cornered you, she was the one who stood in front of you.” “When your mother got sick and needed that specialist, Lola pulled strings to get her a bed. She took care of her every single day, doing more than you ever did.” “And when you couldn’t pay the medical bills, she emptied her own savings to keep your mother alive.” “Is this how you repay her?” On the side wall, the live-stream monitor is flooded with comments from the public watching the feed. “Oh my god, is that Dr. Ward from Mercy Hospital?” “I remember her! She was an absolute angel. When my dad was terminally ill and we couldn’t afford his meds, she bought them out of her own pocket.” “The good die young. This monster needs to rot in hell!” Faced with their outrage, I only sneer and turn my face away, refusing to look at the screen. My silence only fuels Jacob’s rage. He snatches a silver protection charm hanging from Lola’s phone case and hurls it onto the table in front of me. “Three years ago, just because your mother’s doctor asked me to consult on the case, you let your paranoia drive you mad. You accused Lola of trying to seduce me, and then you stabbed her!” “I had to arrest you myself. But Lola couldn’t bear to see you behind bars. She signed the waiver, begged the DA to drop the charges, and got you released. And what did you do? You ran. You vanished without a trace, leaving her sick with worry.” “This charm? Lola walked up the five hundred stone steps of the mountain chapel on her knees, praying for your safety. She prayed for you every single day while you were out there slaughtering four people—and then you came back for her!” Jacob’s voice cracks, his eyes wild with a desire to tear me apart. “Did you even care that your mother passed away while you were in custody?” “Lola ignored her own stab wound to assist in your mother’s emergency surgery. She stood in that operating room for twelve hours straight without a drop of water. When your mother didn’t make it, Lola broke down. She was the one who arranged the funeral because you weren’t there.” “She blamed herself! She took time off every year on the anniversary of your mother’s death just to put flowers on her grave. She did all of this for you, and this is how you repay her!” At the mention of my mother, my eyes sting with uncontrollable tears. Seeing my resolve crack, Jacob’s fists loosen slightly. The same hand that had once slipped an engagement ring onto my finger now rests heavily on my shoulder. “Maren, please. Where is she?” “If you show remorse now, I can talk to the prosecutor. I can get you a plea deal.” I look up, my tears turning into a bitter, mocking laugh. “A plea deal?” “Jacob, you’re the piece of trash who betrayed me. What makes you think you have the right to offer me mercy?” Jacob’s face burns a dark, furious crimson. The deputy chief, who had been taking notes, finally snaps. He slams his clipboard down and snaps: “That is enough!” “When Dr. Ward was stabbed, Detective Mercer only looked after her out of sheer guilt for what you did! He wanted to make sure she wouldn’t press charges so you wouldn’t spend a decade in state prison!” “After you fled, Jacob used every day of his paid leave to hunt for you. Even when Dr. Ward visited the precinct, it was always to ask if we had any leads on your whereabouts.” “You were gone for three years. Jacob’s father was dying of terminal cancer, and his only wish was to see his son settled. Out of pity, Dr. Ward suggested a mock wedding ceremony just to give a dying old man some peace of mind before he passed.” Jacob lets out a heavy, weary sigh and turns his back to me. The deputy chief glares at me, his finger practically poking my nose. “We couldn’t find you, and Dr. Ward had no one else. We were the ones who pressured Jacob to make it official and marry her, to give her the security she deserved after everything she lost.” “And this is how you paint him? You’re sick, Maren. You’ve lost your mind.” Jacob turns back, his face a portrait of profound sorrow. “Maren, do you want to know the real reason Lola and I had that mock wedding?” He steps closer, placing a silver wedding band heavily onto the table. “Lola knew you hated her. She didn’t want a misunderstanding to keep us apart forever, so she thought a high-profile wedding announcement would draw you out of hiding.” “Every single detail of that ceremony was designed around what you wanted. The dress you picked out years ago, the ring we chose—they were waiting backstage. She wanted to hand them over to you the moment you walked through the door.” “As for Lola? She wore a cheap, rented dress and a fake ring from a costume shop just to get through the ceremony. When you didn’t show, she posted the video online, hoping against hope that you’d see it and come home.” The live chat on the screen explodes again. “I remember that video! I thought it was so weird the bride was wearing such a cheap gown, and the ring was practically falling off her finger.” “People were ruthless in the comments, mocking her for marrying a guy who clearly didn’t love her.” “I was one of those commenters. God, I feel sick. We didn’t know anything.” Looking at the wedding ring on the table, my mind drifts back to three years ago. Jacob had just proposed to me. I had just finished my master’s degree and accepted a prestigious job offer. My mother’s health was finally stabilizing, and her discharge date was just around the corner. Drunk on happiness and the bright, shimmering future ahead, I had called Lola. “Lola! Jacob proposed!” “You’re my best friend in the world. You have to be my maid of honor! I want you right there next to me.” Lola had laughed and agreed instantly. After hanging up, the very first thing I shopped for wasn’t my bridal gown, but her bridesmaid dress. If only I hadn’t seen what I saw. If only I had remained blind. Instead, the ring that was meant for my ring finger had been replaced by cold, heavy steel handcuffs. The man who used to hold me tight and whisper that I was his entire world was now standing on the opposite side of a bulletproof glass. Demanding I tell him where to find the woman who ruined everything. “Maren, if you have even a shred of humanity left in you, tell me where Lola is.” I close my eyes tight, a tear finally escaping and cutting a path through the grime on my cheek. “The cemetery columbarium. Section A, Row 3, Niche 2. What you’re looking for is in there.” The police move with terrifying speed, cordoning off the cemetery within minutes. But when they force open the niche, there are no ashes inside. Only a thin, lightweight manila folder. Jacob slams the folder onto the interrogation table. “Maren, are you playing games with us? Are you just trying to buy time?” The deputy chief touches his shoulder. “Jacob, let me take over. If Dr. Ward is still alive, every second counts. Go with the team and search the area. Sitting here in circles is wasting precious time.” As Jacob hesitates, I tilt my chin up toward him. “Aren’t you going to look inside?” Jacob pulls on a pair of latex gloves and opens the folder. Inside is a voluntary organ donor authorization form. The edges of the paper are stained with a faint, rust-colored smudge of dried blood, but nothing is as jarring as my mother’s shaky, uneven signature at the bottom. Jacob’s brow furrows. “Maren, what is this supposed to prove?” “Do you honestly think your mother was coerced into signing this? I was there, Maren! It wasn’t like that at all!” “Lola didn’t even bring the paperwork. A floor nurse happened to mention the donor program, and your mother requested the forms herself!” The dam inside me finally breaks. “My mother requested it? Jacob, you’ve been a detective for five years, and you’re still this blind?” For the first time, the live-stream comments begin to turn. “Wait… did the doctor trick her mother into signing her organs away, and then let her die on the table?” “That is terrifying. If that’s true, I don’t blame her for snapping. Who could stay sane after that?” “And what about the other four victims? Weren’t they all connected to the organ transplant network? This goes deep.” “Put yourself in Maren’s shoes. Your best friend kills your mother for profit, your fiancé marries the killer, and then he’s the one interrogating you after you get your revenge. This is a tragedy.” Jacob glances at the monitor, his expression tightening. He opens his mouth to argue. Suddenly, the heavy door of the interrogation room is thrown open. “Chief! We have a major break!” An officer stands panting in the doorway. “Maren spent the last three years operating across the border. According to intelligence reports, she was heavily involved in an international black-market organ trafficking syndicate!” The words hit the room like a physical blow. Jacob snaps his gaze back to me, his jaw clenching so hard I can hear his teeth grind. “You are a magnificent actress, Maren. I almost believed you.” “You were the one who brainwashed your mother into signing that form, weren’t you?” “You’re running a black-market ring. You killed your own mother to frame Lola, and then you slaughtered those doctors to cover your tracks. Are you even human?” On the screen, the public chat erupts into a feeding frenzy. “Oh my god, Maren is the ringleader?!” “So she forced her mom to sign, let Dr. Ward handle the surgery, and then murdered the medical staff so no one could talk!” “This is insane. She’s a monster.” Looking at the screen, a breathless, hysterical laugh escapes my throat, tasting of copper and despair. Jacob staggers back, barely able to keep his balance. “Maren… do you have anything to say for yourself?” I raise a hand and wipe the corner of my eye. “What’s the point? You’ve already written the ending.” The deputy chief stands up, his voice cold. “Take her back to holding. All units, assemble. We search for Dr. Ward now.” Jacob doesn’t move. As the guards grab my arms and pull me past him, his hand twitches, reaching out toward me for a fraction of a second. But in the end, he says nothing. It takes forty-eight hours of grueling, round-the-clock searching. But they find her. What was left of Lola was buried in the plot right next to my mother’s grave. She had been folded into a tight, terrible ball, her limbs and spine systematically shattered. If you looked closely, you could see she had been forced into a kneeling position, her forehead pressed against the dirt—a forced posture of eternal, desperate begging. The deputy chief turns away, his face pale. “She’s an absolute animal…” Jacob collapses onto the grass, completely blacking out. The medical examiner’s report is brief: “The victim’s major organs were surgically removed.” I hadn’t lied when I said I didn’t know where she was. Because every piece of her was in a different place. When the trial begins, Jacob is dressed in a dark suit. He sits in the gallery alongside the families of the other victims. I keep my eyes lowered as the prosecutor reads the indictment. “…The defendant, Maren Kelly, did willfully and with malice aforethought commit five counts of first-degree murder, resulting in the immediate deaths of the victims.” “Furthermore, over a three-year period, the defendant participated in over four hundred black-market organ transactions across borders, causing severe societal harm.” “Defendant, you may now present your statement.” I remain silent. The gallery erupts into a chorus of angry shouts. “What is there to say? She’s a plague on society!” “My son studied for a decade to become a surgeon! She didn’t just murder him, she dragged his name through the mud!” “Five doctors! She slaughtered five doctors! She’s a monster! Give her the needle!” They hold up framed photographs of the deceased, their faces flushed with grief and fury. The gallery is a sea of flashing camera lights, burning my retinas. I open my mouth, but my throat feels as though it has been filled with concrete. It is an old affliction of mine—whenever my emotions spike, my voice simply deserts me. Lola knew this. Jacob knew this. It was why Lola used to fight my battles for me when we were children. I look toward Jacob. But he is swallowed by the crowd, his face unreadable. A couple of rotten eggs and small stones fly over the partition, striking me in the forehead. Warm blood trickles down, staining my vision a dark, sticky red. I turn back to the judge and slowly shake my head. When the verdict is read, and the judge sentences me to death, a cheer ripples through the courtroom. Grieving families cling to one another, weeping with relief. The judge looks down at me. “Defendant, you have the right to appeal this sentence. Do you understand?” The words won’t come. I only nod, then shake my head. The gavel falls. A final, heavy thud. I close my eyes. “Lola, you won.” As the guards began to lead me out of the courtroom, Jacob instinctively lunged forward. But the surging crowd of jubilant families swept him toward the exit. Reporters, waiting like vultures, thrust their microphones into his face. “Detective Mercer! You personally brought down the woman who murdered your wife. How does it feel to hear the death sentence?” “We understand the killer was your former fiancée. How do you reconcile that?” Jacob felt a tight band constrict his throat. He couldn’t squeeze out a single syllable. In that sudden, suffocating silence, a memory flashed through his mind. Three years ago, when Maren had reportedly stabbed Lola, she hadn’t said a single word in her defense either. The more desperate Maren was to explain, the more her voice failed her. Jacob’s face went white. “Get back to the station,” he barked at the deputy chief, his voice strained. “Pull the evidence from three years ago. The knife, the forensic files, Lola’s original medical reports. All of it!” “Now!” Briggs didn’t understand the sudden urgency, but the raw panic in Jacob’s eyes left no room for argument. When the files were delivered to his desk, Jacob pored over every line, refusing to skip a single letter. By the time he finished, his eyes were bloodshot, and he slammed his fist onto the desk. “File an emergency stay! Maren’s conviction is wrong!”
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