Chapter : 687
Nicoletta’s gaze darkened as she studied Caitlin. What did this girl really know? That word–silenced–rang like a warning bell in her mind. Could Caitlin have uncovered something? Impossible. They had always been cautious, careful not to leave evidence behind.
But then again, hadn’t Caitlin already managed to get Fletcher branded a murder suspect with just a few words? If she could do that, what else was she capable of?
“How do you know so much about Uzma’s death? What exactly do you know?” Nicoletta’s voice was taut, her eyes darting around to see if anyone was nearby.
“I don’t just know,” Caitlin replied calmly, folding her arms. “I saw it with my own eyes. Uzma was pushed into the pond. Funny coincidence, don’t you think?”
Nicoletta’s brow furrowed. So she had witnessed it. That explained everything—the police showing up, Fletcher’s arrest. She had been the eyewitness.
Her stomach twisted. Fletcher, careless fool. How could he let such a damning piece of evidence fall into Caitlin’s hands?
As Nicoletta stood frozen, Caitlin pressed on. “And I know more than that. I know Fletcher’s motive for killing Uzma. I know what she saw before she died. Imagine if I shared those little details with the outside world. What do you think would happen?”
Nicoletta’s hand clenched the silk hem of her cheongsam until her knuckles whitened. Hatred burned in her chest, but stronger than that was fear. It took all her willpower not to lash out.
“You’re bluffing,” she spat. “All talk, nothing solid. Who would believe you without proof?”
Caitlin’s eyes sharpened. Without another word, she reached into her pocket and slipped Nicoletta a photograph.
“Will this do for proof?”
Nicoletta glanced down, and her breath caught. Her face drained of color. “You… you…”
“Don’t panic,” Caitlin said, her voice low, almost soothing. “As long as I stay quiet, no one else will know. I only want the codex. Nothing more.” She patted Nicoletta’s shoulder lightly, the gesture both casual and chilling. “Think it over. Tomorrow morning at nine, I expect the second half of the codex in my hand. And I expect to see Ignatius. Both. Not one or the other.”
Without waiting for a reply, Caitlin turned and walked away. Nicoletta stared at the photograph in her trembling hand, cold sweat trickling down her spine. She rushed back to her room, grabbed a lighter, and set the picture aflame until nothing remained but ash.
But the damage was done. Caitlin knew too much. She was a threat to the family, to everything Nicoletta had built.
The thought came sharp and cold. Caitlin had to die.
1:4
10:06 Wed, Oct 8
She clenched her fists. Yes. There was no other way.
56 Vouctio
Uzma’s death cast a shadow over the Jonathan estate. Conversation was muted, the atmosphere heavy. Few even came to dinner.
Caitlin, however, ate with Zinnia and Tyler as though nothing weighed on her at all.
Afterward, she made her way to the Evergreen Pavilion.
Inside, Fallon was carefully feeding her mother. Delilah looked up when Caitlin entered.
“Caitlin,” Fallon greeted, her voice uneasy.
“Caitlin, you’ve come,” Delilah said, raising a frail hand.
Caitlin approached them. “Yes. Nicoletta is eating dinner. I came straight here.”
“My mother just finished,” Fallon explained, setting the bowl aside and gently wiping Delilah’s mouth.
Delilah’s eyes fixed on Caitlin. “The test results you spoke of–have they come back?”
It seemed Fallon hadn’t told her about Fletcher’s arrest. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be focused only on this.
“They have. That’s why I’m here,” Caitlin replied.
“Well?” Fallon pressed.
“Here.” Caitlin handed her the report.
Fallon scanned it, her face twisting in shock. “My mother doesn’t have rickets?”
“What? I don’t…?” Delilah’s breath hitched.
“Mom, the blood analysis says you have megaloblastic anemia.”
“Anemia? That’s all? Just anemia?” Delilah looked stunned. How could something so simple have left her paralyzed?
Fallon rifled through the second report—the analysis of her mother’s medication. Her eyes went wide. “This… this shows traces of omeprazole.”
If taken long term, omeprazole depleted the body’s vitamin B12. Severe deficiency led to megaloblastic anemia–symptoms like fatigue, sluggishness, cognitive impairment, even paralysis.
“My mother never had rickets. She was poisoned, slowly, for years. Who would do this?” Fallon’s voice cracked with fury.
“What does it say?” Delilah’s hands trembled. She needed to hear it, even if the truth destroyed her.
“Mom, it was the omeprazole. Years of it stripped your body of nutrients. That’s what caused your anemia, your weakness, your paralysis.”
Tears welled in Delilah’s eyes. “How could this be? How could they do this to me?”
Fallon looked lost, her anger blinding her. She turned to Caitlin. “What do we do? I don’t trust anyone but you. Please, tell me.”
Caitlin’s gaze sharpened. “Answer me this–if Delilah is paralyzed and unable to manage the Jonathan family, who benefits most directly?”
Fallon froze, then the realization hit her. Her eyes blazed. “Nicoletta. It’s Nicoletta. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t have ironclad proof,” Caitlin admitted. “But all signs point to her. She’s been running everything inside and out. For power, she’d do anything.”
Fallon leapt to her feet. “I’m going to confront her right now!”
“Wait!” Caitlin’s voice snapped like a whip. Fallon stopped.
“Even if you storm in there, do you think she’ll confess? No. She’ll turn it back on me, claim I’ve been sowing discord. These two reports aren’t enough. What we need is hard evidence. Something undeniable.”
Fallon’s hands balled into fists. “Then tell me–how do we get it?”
She had never lived in intrigue, never played these games of deception. All she had now was anger, confusion, and Caitlin’s guidance.