Page 223 of Gathered Sparkle

“I don’t think so,Mother.”

I step past them to Marcus Blackwood, still standing frozen in his trance, next to the other two idiots.

“Marcus,” I address him, making the crowd go silent. “Tell us how you know Veronica Harrington.”

Blackwood’s head tilts, his voice monotone and devoid of hesitation. “I get rid of people for her. She tells me who, and I make it happen. No questions.”

The crowd gasps again.

“Did you kill Oscar Lane for her?”

“Yes. She wanted it to look like a heart attack.”

The uproar is instant. Gasps followed by shouts and cries.

I don’t even flinch. “What did you do?”

“I tampered with his meds. Switched out his beta blockers for something that caused a cardiac arrest. Almost undetectable.”

The words slam into me, but I don’t react, not outwardly. At least now I know. Now I know how it happened.

But there’s no relief in the clarity, only a dull ache that spreads through me.

I’m sorry, Uncle Oscar.

I exhale slowly, forcing the grief back into the box I keep it in, and glance at Levi, who’s staring at Blackwood with his hands flexing at his sides as if he’s just short of strangling him.

“He’s lying!” Veronica shrieks again. “He put him under a fucking spell!”

Levi takes the piece of paper I’d pulled from the envelope from me. His smile is sharp as he addresses her. “Right. All lies.”

With a dramatic flourish, he tears the paper in half. But before the pieces can fall, flames burst from his hands, consuming them instantly. In their place, he holds a newspaper, which he unfolds slowly, holding it up so the headline is for everyone to see.

Veronica Harrington Sentenced to Life for Murder, Money Laundering, and Human Trafficking.

“The truth always comes out.” Levi’s voice cuts through the silence that followed the gasps.

“No!” Veronica’s eyes lock on the paper just as it bursts into flames, and the sound of wings fills the air again, even louder than the murmur of the crowd.

Dozens of pigeons fly over us while thin sheets of paper flutter downward like leaves from their claws. People stretch their hands out, plucking the falling notes from the air.

Each is a piece of evidence—a text message, email, ledger, photograph. Veronica’s name is splashed across them all.

Chaos spreads as I hear some people read aloud.

“Make sure the books look legit.”

“Get rid of him. Permanently. No loose ends.”

“Three million dollars wired to an offshore account. Details attached.”

The murmurs swell louder and louder. Phones light up as people snap photos and record the evidence.

“Holy shit, this is real!” someone yells.

People duck to gather the papers on the ground, the crowd becoming desperate for a piece of the scandal.

“Security!” Veronica screams for her personnel, who are somewhere in front of the Heights, but the crowd is too thick for them to push through.

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