The Thistles of Rose

4 • Numb

"I just- I don't understand how he got in that night," I drew circles on his chest as I laid against it, wondering, "we tightened the security. You reduced the list of people who could enter this house. You even did a sweep of the entire property."

"The only thing I could think of was that one of the guards was bent," his hand rested on my ass, as he too drew innocent circles on it.

"We're missing something. It just doesn't make sense," I peered up at him, placing my chin on my hand.

"Rosa, we know that traitors have been spreading like wildfire. And it'll also justify how they knew about Ricky and the tranquiliser darts," he responded, smoothing down my hair.

"Don't you keep the darts in the kitchen?" I clarified with furrowed eyebrows and he nodded.

"Who has clearance to enter this property except us?" I continued as the clogs in my mind started to turn.

He sighed, "your brother, your sister, Marcus Williams and my recently-dead uncle."

I stared at him, determined, and he nodded his head dejectedly.

Thunder claps deafeningly as the rain belts against the porch of my old, broken home. I stand in front of the large, heavy door which hardly requires any force to be pushed open. It's the lightest it's ever been.

I don't bother to take off my wet boots. I don't bother to dry my wet boots. My footsteps squeak loudly against the murky, white floor smeared with lies and deceit.

The idle conversation wanders through the halls and I follow the sound of it into the living room. Dante, Marcus and Calla are all in one room.

"Ro?" Dante perks up, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming over? I would've picked you up."

I ignore him, with a frown etched on my lips and a blank look in my eyes.

Marcus grimaces at me in greeting. Calla immediately stands.

"She's started driving again, Dante. My Rose is getting better. How you doing, sis?" Calla rushes over for a hug and smiles.

I throw a powerful punch to her jaw and watch as her head collides with the marble ground. Marcus stands. Dante does too. Calla lowers her head. And I don't say anything.

My chest heaves like a boiling kettle. Running my hands over my head, I cradle the back of my neck as I stare at the blurry ceiling. The pit of betrayal in my stomach grows the longer I stare at her.

The woman who betrayed me.

My sister. My fucking sister.

Quietly,  I relay the pieces of the puzzle I fitted together, "you needed an excuse to come to my house. You had him hidden in the back of your car. You heard that we were doing a sweep of the property so you stalled and waited until the all-clear was given. You knew Ricky would be an obstacle and found out about the tranquiliser darts to put him out. He jumped out your car. Hid in the garage. Waited until later that evening. Lured me into the garden to kill my son."

She touches a hand to her bleeding lip.

"Did I miss anything?" I touch a hand to my chin and then point at her, snarling, "oh right, I forgot the part where you betrayed your own fucking sister!"

Dante sneers, "Calla. What the fuck?"

"How are you so sure it was her?" Marcus breathes lightly and, bless him, I do see the heartbreak in his eyes.

"Well, me and my darling knew we had a traitor. Thought it was the housemaid, the guards but something wasn't adding up. They only saw us. It had to be someone who knew us. I just didn't think it could ever be someone of the same blood as me," I eye her shaking body with a look of daggers. Her quivering gasps irritate me as they diffuse to the echo of the walls.