Page 82 of Defiled Innocence

He stops short, takes a deep breath like he needs to ready himself to say the words.

“Your father hurt her. She didn’t accidentally hit her head on the counter.”

For a second, I forget to breathe.

My brain has a lot of other things to do, like figure out what he said. Because I must be putting the words in the wrong order.

“But… I found her. She was on the floor; the pill bottle was empty in the bathroom. She’d… she’d taken too many.” I grab at my throat, willing more air to get in.

“Amelia.” Dmitri steps toward me, but I put a hand out to ward him off.

It’s never worked before, but this time, he stops.

“Your father made it look like that,” Christian continues. “When your dad realized what he’d done, he left the house. But then you came home and found her. You were so young you don’t remember what happened after that. But your dad needed help to cover up what he’d done.”

Christian swings his eyes to Dmitri.

“Dmitri? Did you know?”

His eyebrow arches. “I did.”

My mind reels.

“Yeah, he knew. And he told your father exactly what to do to get away with it. He and his men came in and set up the scene, made any evidence that would point to a murder disappear. And then he forced your brother into business with him as payment.” Spittle forms at the corners of Christian’s mouth.

“Lucas? You said you didn’t force Lucas.”

“I didn’t. Your father suggested the arrangement when he realized he would owe a favor. Our help didn’t come free.” He speaks like he has nothing to be ashamed of. “He suggested Lucas use his real estate investment company to help us with a cash flow problem we were having. It was new at the time; Lucas had only been open a year. Lucas agreed, so long as you never found out the truth.”

When he says the last statement, he turns to Christian.

“But Christian tells you now, not out of friendship, but out of blackmail. He’s desperate for money and thought hurting you was the best way to get into my wallet.”

A gun clicks behind me, and I turn a little to see all three of his men, holding their weapons.

“I don’t believe you.” I exchange looks between them both. “I don’t believe either of you.”

Stepping away from them, I bump into a table. A vase of flowers falls to the floor, water spills onto the carpet.

“You’re lying,” I say again, trying desperately to cling to a reality I’ve lived for decades.

“Amelia.” Dmitri walks toward me.

“No. Just… give me a minute. I need a minute.” I turn on my heel and run from the room, past his men with their guns, and past Maria who stands at the foot of the stairs with a cup of coffee in her hand.

All of the boxes from Lucas’ office are in the spare bedroom. There was a file folder with my mother’s name on it that I hadn’t looked at, thinking it was probably just old records for her.

I rip off the cover of the first file box, but don’t find it. It’s in the third box I look in, sitting right on top, just staring up at me.

Opening the file, her death certificate is the first document, but I slide it onto the floor to get what’s behind it. The autopsy report has a big red stamp on it that reads Original Copy. My eyes fly over the words, the findings of contusions all over her body, and the horrible truth.

She had no drugs in her system. No alcohol either. Cause of death reads blunt trauma to the head.

I sink to the floor, my knees hitting the carpet as I shove the report out of the file and the photographs are there.

“Amelia.” Dmitri’s voice echoes behind me, but it’s as though he’s standing on the other side of a dimension.

He’s not in this world with me.

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