Breach of trust.

Darla Pov

I stood outside the house, Richard's spare key cold in my sweaty palm. This felt wrong. Everything about this felt wrong.

The email kept playing in my head. Some anonymous senders claimed they had "information I needed to see." Pictures attached. Richard and Melanie sitting way too close at Romano's restaurant, her hand on his arm, both of them laughing like they were sharing secrets.

"This is stupid," I whispered to myself, but my feet wouldn't move away from the door.

The house looked different in the evening light. Richard had bought it for Melanie six months ago when she said she needed her own place. "You're the best cousin ever for convincing him," she'd said, hugging me tight. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Yeah, right.

I slipped the spare key into the lock as quietly as I could. The door opened without a sound. The living room was dark, but I could hear voices upstairs. My heart felt like it was trying to jump out of my chest.

"This is insane," I thought. "Sneaking into my cousin's house like some sort of criminal."

But then I heard Richard's laugh. That deep laugh he used to give me when we were dating. When was the last time he'd laughed like that with me?

I crept up the stairs, each step making me feel sicker. The voices were coming from Melanie's bedroom. I pressed myself against the wall outside the door, trying to listen.

"God, I've missed this," Richard's voice came through the door.

My stomach dropped.

"We can't keep doing this behind her back forever," Melanie said. "It's not fair to any of us."

"I know, baby. But you have to understand, the divorce needs to be handled carefully. Her father's company…"

"Our father's company," Melanie corrected him. "He was my uncle too."

"Right, but legally, everything went to her. If we do this wrong, we could lose everything we've worked for."

I felt dizzy. What were they talking about? What had they worked for?

"Sometimes I think you care more about the money than about us," Melanie said, and I could hear the pout in her voice.

"That's not true." Richard's voice got softer, the way it used to when he was trying to comfort me. "You know how I feel about you. About this."

I heard the bed creak. My hands were shaking so bad I had to grip the wall to keep standing.

"When are you going to tell her?" Melanie asked.

"Soon. I already have the papers drawn up. My lawyer says if we can prove she's been mentally unstable since her father's death…"

"She has been pretty fragile," Melanie said, and I could practically hear her shrug. "All those nights she called me crying. Poor thing."

Poor thing. Me? She said it like I was some pathetic animal.

“If something happened to her before the divorce was finalized, everything would automatically go to her spouse. That's me then we would have complete control.” Richard continued.

“You mean if she had an accident?” Melanie's voice was carefully neutral.

“Accidents happen all the time. Especially to people who are emotionally unstable.”

They weren't just planning divorce but to kill me.

"But the Pregnancy changes everything," Richard said. "We can't wait much longer."

Pregnancy?

"I still can't believe you told her you don't want kids," Melanie laughed. "If she only knew you've been trying to get me pregnant for months."

The floor felt like it was tilting. I remembered that conversation. I'd brought up having a baby, and Richard had gotten that uncomfortable look on his face.

"Darla, we've talked about this. I don't want kids. Maybe in a few years, but not now."

But he wanted to. Just not with me.

"Do you think she suspects anything?" Melanie asked.

"No way. She trusts me completely. And she adores you. She'd never think her precious cousin would do something like this."

They both laughed. Actually laughed.

"You're terrible," Melanie said, but she sounded delighted about it.

"Hey, it was your idea to get close to her. 'She's so lonely,'" Richard mimicked Melanie's voice.

"And it worked perfectly. She helped me get that job at the gallery, introduced me to all her father's business contacts. She made it so easy."

"Your uncle never liked me," Richard said. "But once he was gone and Darla inherited everything, suddenly I had access to a fortune."

"Speaking of which," Melanie's voice got serious. "Are you sure about what happened to him? The heart attack seemed so convenient."

My heart stopped.

"Some things are better left alone," Richard said quietly. "What matters is that we're together now, and soon we'll have everything we deserve. Once Darla’s gone, there'll be no one left to challenge us."

“When?” Melanie whispered.

“Tonight. She'll come here looking for answers. And this house is so isolated… accidents happen.”

I couldn't breathe. Were they talking about my father's death? Dad had died of a heart attack a few years ago. The doctors said these things happen.

But the way Richard said it and now they were planning the same thing for me.

I couldn't listen anymore. I pushed away from the wall and stumbled toward the stairs, but my elbow hit a picture frame hanging in the hallway. It crashed to the floor.

Everything went silent.

"What was that?" Melanie whispered.

"Stay here," Richard said.

I heard footsteps, but I froze. Where could I go? The front door was too far. I was trapped.

"Darla?"

I turned around. Richard stood at the entrance of the door, pulling on his shirt. Behind him, Melanie clutched a robe around herself.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, like I was the one who didn't belong.

"I got an email," I said, my voice barely audible. "Pictures of you two."

"We can explain," Richard said, but he was moving closer slowly, deliberately.

"Explain what? That you've been screwing my cousin? That you killed my father? That you're planning to kill me too?"

The mask dropped completely. Melanie smiled, a cold, cruel expression I'd never seen before.

"Oh, Darla," she said, coming behind Richard. "You always were too smart for your own good."

"You heard everything, didn't you?" Richard asked, still approaching.

But I was already moving. I ran down the stairs, reaching the front door.

My fingers found the door handle and I yanked it open, but Richard lunged forward and slammed it shut, his hand flat against the wood above my head.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

I ducked under his arm and ran toward the kitchen, my heart pounding. Maybe I could find a knife, or get to the back door, or…

Richard caught me before I made it halfway across the living room. His arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me off my feet.

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing against his grip. "Help! Somebody help me!"

"No one can hear you," Melanie said conversationally, following us. "That's the beauty of this house. So isolated. So private."

I drove my elbow back into Richard's ribs as hard as I could. He grunted and loosened his grip just enough for me to break free.

I ran for the stairs, thinking maybe I could lock myself in the bathroom, find a window, something. But Melanie was already there, blocking my path.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked sweetly.

I turned back toward Richard, who was advancing on me slowly, like he was enjoying this.

"This is insane!" I shouted. "You can't just kill me! People will ask questions!"

"What people?" Richard asked. "Your mother in Florida who you barely talk to? Your father's business partners who think you're an irresponsible party girl?"

"The police will investigate!"

"Will they?" Melanie tilted her head. "Poor Darla, so unstable since her father's death. We'll tell everyone how worried we've been about her mental state."

I grabbed a heavy book from the coffee table and hurled it at Richard's head. It connected, and he staggered backward, cursing.

"You little bitch!"

I made another run for the door, but Melanie stuck out her foot and I went sprawling across the hardwood floor. Pain shot through my knees and palms as I hit the ground.

"Stay down," Richard growled, wiping blood from his forehead.

"No!" I scrambled to my feet. "I won't make this easy for you!"

"You're only making it worse for yourself," Melanie said, but there was something in her voice now. Uncertainty. This wasn't going according to their plan.

Richard came at me again, but I brought my knee up toward his face. He caught my leg and twisted, sending me crashing into the wall.

Stars exploded across my vision, but I forced myself to keep moving. I had to keep fighting. I had to…

"Enough!" Melanie shrieked. She grabbed a heavy crystal vase from the side table, her face twisted with rage. "I am so sick of you!"

I saw it coming and tried to dodge, but Richard grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back.

"Hold still," he panted. "Just hold still and it'll be over quick."

"No!" I struggled against his grip, kicking backward at his legs. "I won't let you do this! I won't… "

The vase caught me across the temple. My head cracked against the edge of the coffee table on the way down, and everything went fuzzy.

But I could still hear them talking.

"Shit, there's blood on the vase," Richard was saying.

"We'll clean it up," Melanie said, but she sounded shaken. "Make it look like she fell."

I tried to move, to speak, but my body wasn't responding anymore. Blood was spreading beneath my head.

"Check if she's still breathing," Richard said.

I felt Melanie kneel beside me, her fingers pressing against my throat.

"Barely," she said. "Give it a few more minutes."

"The pictures? The email?" she asked.

"I sent those," Richard said. "Made sure she'd come here tonight. My lawyer will confirm I was with him all evening, of course. And you... you were here alone when your poor cousin came to confront you about some delusion she had."

They stood over me, watching me die, and all I could think about was how I had lived a lie.

"I'm sorry, Darla," Melanie said softly, and for a moment she almost sounded sincere. "But you're worth so much more to us dead than alive."

I tried to speak, to curse them both, but only blood came out.

This was it, then. Richard and Melanie won after all. They got everything, and I got to die for my stupidity.

"Pathetic," I thought. "Just pathetic."

The world got darker and quieter, and I let it.

---

I woke up in my childhood bedroom.

For a minute, I just lay there, confused. The walls were lavender, like Mom had painted them when I was twelve. My old desk sat in the corner with my high school photos stuck around the mirror. The stuffed elephant Dad won for me at the state fair sat on the bookshelf.

But that was impossible. This room had been in storage for years. Mom had moved to Florida after Dad died.

I sat up and looked around. Everything was exactly like it used to be.

Then I saw the calendar on the wall. It turned out to be a date from ten years ago. The day of my first big audition, the one that could have changed everything.

I remembered this day. I'd gotten up early, practiced my monologue one more time, and then Melanie had called.

"Darla, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I'm having a panic attack. Can you come over? I don't have anyone else to call."

I'd rushed over to her apartment but she wasn't there and I was locked in. By the time I got out, I'd missed the audition.

"There will be other chances," I'd told myself.

But there hadn't been. Not like that one.

"This is impossible," I said, but my voice sounded different.

I got up and looked in the mirror. I was twenty-two again. My hair was longer, my face softer. I looked exactly like I had ten years ago.

Before Richard became serious. Before the marriage. Before everything went wrong.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Melanie.

"Hey cuz! Having a total meltdown about this guy I'm seeing. Can you come over? I really need you right now. XOXO"

I stared at the message. This was it. This was the moment that started everything. If I went to Melanie's, I'd miss the audition. I'd never get my big break as an actress.

But I wasn't going to Melanie's this time.

I texted back: "Sorry, can't today. Have something important. Talk later."

Then I turned off my phone and started getting ready for my audition.

This time, I was going to choose differently. This time, I was going to choose myself.