PART 2: The Traitor's Mask
My phone seemed to vibrate with a sinister, malevolent energy. I stared at the screen, my breath catching in my throat. Michael caught my eye and gave me a firm, warning nod. Act normal, his eyes pleaded. Don't let her know.
With trembling fingers, I swiped the screen and pressed the phone to my ear.
"H-hello? Kara?" I stammered, fighting with every ounce of my being to keep my voice from cracking.
"Hey, Em!" Kara’s voice boomed through the receiver, dripping with a sickeningly sweet, bubbly affection that made my stomach turn. "I just wanted to check in. I’ve been absolutely sick to my stomach out here in Sedona. Greg and I are cutting our trip short and driving back tonight. How are Mom and Dad? Have the doctors figured out what happened yet? I’ve been praying non-stop."
Hearing her lie so fluidly, so effortlessly, sent a wave of pure, unadulterated fury through my veins. It was all a performance. The text messages, the vacation, the tears over the phone—it was a choreographed dance of a psychopath.
"They're... they're stable," I said, forcing a dull, exhausted tone to mask my anger. "The doctors still have them in the ICU. They're heavily sedated. They haven't woken up yet, Kara. They can't speak."
A distinct, brief silence occurred on the other end of the line. It was barely a second, but to my heightened senses, it felt like an eternity. Was that a sigh of relief from my sister?
"Oh, thank God they're stable," Kara finally breathed, her voice dripping with manufactured emotion. "But it's just so terrifying, right? The police called me yesterday asking about their food habits. Do you think it could have been botulism? Or maybe Dad took the wrong medication by mistake? You know how confused he gets with his pills lately."
She's already laying the groundwork, I thought, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the phone. She wants everyone to think it was an accident or old-age senility.
"Maybe," I lied smoothly. "The police are still running tests on the kitchen items. They haven't found anything conclusive yet."
"Well, Greg and I will be at the hospital first thing tomorrow morning," Kara said reassuringly. "Go home and get some sleep, Emily. You’ve borne so much of this burden. Let your little sister take over for a bit. I love you."
"I love you too," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
I hung up the phone and dropped it onto the counter as if it had burned me. I looked at Michael, who had already reopened his laptop to analyze the video files further.
"She's coming to the hospital tomorrow morning," I told him, my voice hollow. "She wanted to confirm if Mom and Dad were able to talk. She's terrified they'll wake up and point the finger at her."
"Then we don't have much time," Michael said, beckoning me over. "Look at this. I zoomed in on the brown paper bag she handed your mother."
I leaned over the screen. Michael had enhanced the frame where Kara handed over the bag. The paper was slightly translucent under the bright sunlight, and inside, the silhouette of a glass jar was visible. But what caught my attention was the printed logo on the outside of the bag: 'Verde Valley Botanicals & Holistic Health.'
"That's a specialty herbal clinic just outside of Phoenix," Michael murmured. "I did a quick search. It's located less than five miles from the research lab where Greg works. This wasn't just a random poison, Emily. They formulated this or purchased it under a false name, and Kara delivered it under the guise of an 'immune-boosting herbal tea' for Mom's arthritis."
"But why?" I cried out, the agonizing question tearing at my soul. "What could possibly possess her to eliminate our parents? They gave her everything!"
"We need to find out what happened in that house over the last month," Michael said resolutely. "Tomorrow morning, when Kara and Greg show up at the hospital, I’m not going to be there. I’m going to use my spare key to go into Kara’s condo while it's empty. We need proof of motive, Emily. If she's doing this for money, there will be a paper trail."
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"Michael, that's incredibly dangerous," I protested, fear gripping me. "If Greg or his detective brother catches you—"
"They won't," Michael interrupted, taking my hands in his. "Your parents treated me like a son when my own family abandoned me. They gave us our down payment for this house. They love our kids. I am not going to sit back and let a monster destroy them. We do this right, we do this quiet, and we bring her down completely."
