Chapter 8 - At the Edge of the WaterMichael stepped out into the pouring rain. He wasn't holding a weapon, but there was a wild, manic gleam in his eyes. Water plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and his clothes were soaked through.
He looked around, trapped between the towering brick walls of the abandoned warehouse and the dark, churning waters of the river behind the docks.
"It's over, Michael," Detective Miller called out, taking slow, calculated steps forward with his gun raised. "Don't make this any worse than it is."
Michael laughed—a sharp, echoing sound that cut through the howling wind. He looked past the officers, locking his eyes directly onto mine as I stepped out from behind the cruiser.
"Worse?" Michael shouted over the storm. "Em, don't you see? It hasn't even begun!"
"You ruined everything!" I screamed, stepping forward despite Miller's warning gesture. "You lied to me for five years! You tried to murder my parents in cold blood!"
"I gave you ambition, Emily!" Michael yelled back, taking a slow step toward the edge of the wooden dock, where the dark river water surged violently against the pylons. "Your family was content to live and die in mediocrity. I wanted us to have the world! And I would have gotten away with it, too, if your pathetic sister hadn't lost her nerve!"
"She's going to prison, and so are you," I said, my voice steady, devoid of fear for the first time in my life.
Michael smiled—a chilling, final expression. "Prison is for people who get caught, Em. But I’d rather burn than let the state take everything I built."
Before Detective Miller could lunge forward, Michael spun around and hurled himself backward off the edge of the wooden dock, plunging deep into the black, unforgiving current of the river below.
May you like
We rushed to the edge. The flashlight beams cut through the torrential rain, sweeping across the churning surface of the water.
There was nothing. Just swirling foam, floating debris, and the endless roar of the storm.
