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‘Up?’ Sophia asked, singsong high, looking down at the baby, both his arms raised. ‘You want up out of the high chair?’ At least Cameron wasn’t still screaming, like this morning.
He changed his mind, lowering his arms, shoving another tiny floret of broccoli into his mouth, mashing it around. ‘Sorry, Jet.’ Sophia ruffled Cameron’s hair. ‘Right in the middle of
dinnertime. What were you saying?’ ‘How was Pilates this morning?’ Sophia pursed her lips. ‘Um, it was good. Why?’ ‘Just checking in with you, sister. Having a chitchat, see how your day’s been.’ Jet leaned against the doorway, only half in the kitchen. ‘Mine’s been a bit shit, thanks for asking. Been to the hospital, can’t move my right arm anymore, so that’s an interesting development on top of the whole only- having-three-and-a-half-days-left-to-live thing. But I’m glad Pilates was good.’ Jet crossed the threshold into the room, spotting something on the counter. ‘Stop it,’ she almost laughed. ‘More baking?’ She pointed to the cake on the side, white icing, blue edging. ‘Aren’t you just the perfect housewife?’ ‘Oh.’ Sophia handed Cameron a piece of shredded chicken. ‘That’s for Cameron’s best friend, Noah. It’s his first birthday tomorrow, having a little party.’ ‘You’re too much, Sophia,’ Jet said darkly, staring down at the cake. ‘Make the rest of us look bad.’ ‘Haven’t finished it yet.’ Sophia stepped closer, throwing a dish towel over her shoulder. ‘Need to do the writing.’ Jet nodded. ‘Where’s that going? In the middle, here?’ Jet pointed down at the cake, pretended to write with her finger. ‘Happy First Birthday
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Noah.’ But her finger kept going, an indent in the icing, then a hole, then right the way through, grabbing an entire handful right out the middle. ‘Jet!’ Sophia shrieked. ‘What are you doing? You’ve ruined it!’ ‘Just tasting it.’ Jet brought the handful to her mouth, took a huge bite.
Cloying and sweet, sticking to her tongue.
Cameron giggled. ‘Jet!’ ‘Hold on,’ Jet said, mouth full of cake, stuffing the rest in, chewing. She pulled a face. ‘My god, Sophia. Waaaaay too much salt. What are you trying to do, poison these kids?’ Sophia’s eyes widened, feet rooted to the spot. Had she caught that? Jet hoped she’d caught that. ‘You’ve got icing on your face,’ Sophia said, sharpening the letters, letting them hiss. ‘I know,’ Jet said. ‘And Cameron’s got broccoli on his. Excuse me.’ Jet walked right over to Sophia, too close, looking up into her eyes as she wiped the clumps of cake and icing off on the dish towel, getting some on Sophia’s clothes, sucking the rest off her fingers, wiping again. ‘What has gotten into you?’ Sophia lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘An aneurysm, apparently.’ Jet stepped back. ‘You should listen to what I said about the salt. Can be really dangerous to eat too much, especially for someone who has PKD.’ ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Sophia hadn’t moved. ‘Oh, really? No idea?’ ‘No.’ Sophia dropped the dish towel into the sink. ‘You can’t just come in here and –’ Jet placed the little yellow capsule down on the counter.
Sophia’s eyes snapped to it. ‘Is this where you’d do it?’ Jet gestured around with one arm. ‘The kitchen? Pour the medicine down the sink, fill each one with salt instead, put them back together. That’s fiddly work.’ Jet flexed her chin, like she was impressed. ‘One hundred pills in each bottle. No wonder it took you
over an hour each time.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re –’ ‘– Yes, you do. Don’t be boring, Sophia, I don’t have time for it.’ Jet folded her arms. ‘The doorbell camera has footage of you taking the pills out of the house. Coming back an hour later to put them back, after you’d
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replaced each one with salt. You thought no one would figure it out? Fourth of July. Mom’s birthday. Halloween. It’s been going on at least four months, maybe longer.’ Sophia pressed her lips together, a tight line. ‘Oh good, no more denials,’ Jet said. ‘Guess we’re being grown-ups now, huh?’ She wiped her face on her sleeve, more clumps of crystalline icing. ‘Honestly, I thought it was me at first, the one you were poisoning. Got excited, seeing as I’m looking for who murdered me. But, no, it’s Dad.
You’ve been poisoning him for months, Sophia. Killing him.’ Sophia’s mouth opened with a pop of saliva. ‘Don’t be so dramatic, Jet. I wasn’t trying to kill him.’ ‘You were poisoning him. Every day. With salt. The man with the dodgy kidneys. They’re starting to fail. He’ll need dialysis or a transplant soon or he’ll die. You did that to him. That sure looks a lot like killing somebody to me –’ ‘– Not to kill him.’ Sophia shook her head like the idea was ridiculous, and so was Jet. ‘I was going to stop as soon as … I just wanted him to get a little sicker, just for a little while.’ ‘Why the fuck –’ ‘– So that he’d realize it was time to retire, time to take his health seriously.’ ‘Seriously?’ Jet snapped, stealing Sophia’s word, changing it. ‘Oh, come on, Jet, I thought we were being grown-ups.’ Sophia sniffed. ‘We all know he was supposed to have retired by now. It’s been two years since he said he would. Luke has been waiting for so long. I was just trying to … speed that process along. Give Scott a little push, make him finally let go of the company. I was not trying to kill him,’ she spat the word. ‘Ah, sure,’ Jet laughed, deep and empty. ‘Poisoning someone so they retire early is completely different from poisoning someone so they die early. One is definitely morally justified, Sophia, you’re right. I shouldn’t have questioned your fucking principles.’ ‘Shut up, Jet. We all do what we have to do.’ Jet clutched her right arm at the elbow, edged her way toward another question, studying Sophia’s eyes for a reaction. ‘And you think Dad is going to leave Mason Construction to Luke?’ ‘Yes, of course he will, eventually,’ Sophia said, no change in her eyes.
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Jet’s heart kicked up, reacting instead. Sophia must not have known about Dad’s plan to sell the company to Nell Jankowski. And did that mean Sophia no longer had a motive to bash Jet’s head in with a hammer? Killing one Mason, but not the other?
Sophia was still talking. ‘He just has to retire first. He wants to, your dad, he’s tired, he’s ready. I’m not just doing this for me. This is for all of us.’ ‘Yeah, you’re such a fucking saint, Sophia. Thank god you married into the family.’ ‘You’re so ungrateful, Jet. Always have been. That’s why you never got anywhere.’ ‘Oh, and you went somewhere?’ Jet rounded on her. ‘’Cause it looks to me like the only place you went is my brother’s bed.’
‘Ah, she finally says it.’ ‘Says what?’ Sophia flashed her eyes. ‘I’ve always known you were unhappy that I married Luke!’ ‘I’m more unhappy that you’ve been slowly murdering my dad so you and Luke can take his company, actually!’ A muscle twitched in Sophia’s jaw. ‘Luke has worked really hard. The company came close to going under last year, and Luke is the one who turned everything around. He deserves this!’ Her voice faltered, came back weaker. ‘Why do you hate me so much, Jet?’ Jet widened her eyes, gestured to the small yellow pill. ‘No,’ Sophia sniffed. ‘Before this. Before Luke. What did I ever do to you?’ ‘Are you joking?’ Jet got stronger as Sophia weakened, shrank back. ‘You abandoned me, Sophia. I used to think of you as a sister; we spent every day together. Then I go away to college, and everything is scary and new and I don’t really belong, and I needed you and you stopped answering! You weren’t there!’ Sophia shook her head. ‘Funny,’ she said. ‘’Cause that’s not how I remember it. You’re the one who stopped responding to me, Jet. I didn’t have anybody when you left Woodstock. You were my everything, and then you were gone, so focused on Dartmouth, on trying to be Emily, that you forgot to be yourself.’ That stung, Jet felt it behind the eyes. ‘No!’ she barked. ‘You never met Emily. You don’t get to talk about her like you know anything. You stopped
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responding first.’
‘I remember it differently.’ ‘You remember it wrong!’ ‘Fine!’ Sophia snapped, coming back. ‘You can hate me as much as you want, but I did this for Luke. I’d do anything for him, for the people I care about.’ ‘Poisoning your father-in-law seems a step too far, if you ask me,’ Jet said. ‘Why couldn’t you just wait until Dad was ready to retire?’ ‘Luke can’t wait,’ Sophia said, tensing like she’d accidentally said too much. ‘Why?’ Jet stepped closer. ‘Why can’t Luke wait? Has he done something?’ ‘No, no, no,’ Sophia said, two nos too many. ‘He’s just waited too long
already, that’s all.’
‘Sophia,’ Jet growled. ‘Tell me.’ ‘There’s nothing to tell!’ ‘Where were you when I was being murdered?’ She stepped forward again, squishing a piece of cake into the floor. ‘10:46 p.m. on Halloween. I know you and Luke weren’t here together, like you said. One of you was out. Was it you? Was it him?’ Sophia blinked. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking ab–’ ‘– Not this again,’ Jet cut her off. ‘Yes, you do. You lied to me. You texted Luke, saying Call me at 10:52 that night. Look, go get your phone, if you want to keep playing dumb. One of you was not in the house like you said. Was it you, Sophia? Where were you?’ Sophia blinked. ‘I was here,’ she said, voice deflating. ‘So it was Luke?’ Jet pressed. ‘Luke went somewhere?’
‘No.’ ‘Sophia, tell me!’ ‘I can’t tell you anything! Luke was here with me!’
‘You’re lying!’ ‘I’m not!’ ‘What about those cuts on his hands?’ Jet pressed even harder. ‘Did he
come home with those?’
‘Luke didn’t leave home!’ ‘Oh, fuck off, Sophia.’
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‘Not everything is about you, Jet,’ she shouted. ‘The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know!’ ‘Well, I’m the one dying this week, so it can revolve around me just a little bit, ’kay? Temporarily.’ Jet drew back, a phantom itch at the back of her neck, heat just below the surface. She pointed to the Lotrel capsule. ‘Does Luke know? About you poisoning Dad? Did you plan this togeth–’ ‘– No, he doesn’t know.’ Sophia sniffed, a wet sucking sound, though there weren’t any tears. ‘And, Jet, you can’t tell him. You have to promise me you won’t tell him.’ Jet folded her lip, scoffed in Sophia’s desperate face. ‘I’m not promising you shit.’ Sophia grabbed Jet’s arm. Her right arm. Jet only knew because she watched her do it, couldn’t feel a thing. Sophia could squeeze as tight as she wanted, dig those nails right in, and Jet wouldn’t flinch. Not a bit. ‘No, Jet. You can’t tell Luke about this.’ Jet narrowed her eyes, took aim, right up through Sophia’s head. ‘I can do whatever I want. I’ve got three days to live. No consequences, Sophia.’ She shoved Sophia away.
Walked past Cameron – happily picking away at the rest of his broccoli – toward the hallway. ‘You’ve been spending a lot of time with Billy Finney this week, haven’t you?’ Sophia called after her, breathless between the words, forcing them out.
Jet ignored her, kept going for the front door. ‘Does Billy know?’ she called. ‘What you did to him? How you ruined his life?’ Jet’s feet faltered, stopping her on the Welcome mat. She pressed her teeth together, swallowed the guilt back where it belonged. Deep down. Farther than that. ‘If you tell Luke about the pills, Jet, I’ll tell Billy about his mom!’ Jet’s heart followed the guilt, down into her gut, hissing in the acid.
‘Fuck you, Sophia!’ ‘Fuck you, Jet!’ ‘Don’t fucking swear in front of the fucking baby!’ Jet yelled, wrenching the front door open.
Dark outside, the moon hanging low in the sky.
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She slammed the door behind her.
They still had a jack-o’-lantern on the front porch, uneven toothy smile that was closer to a smirk, like Sophia’s, upside-down triangle eyes, just starting to soften and sag.
Jet let it take over, the rage, starting in her gut, chewing on her doubled- up heart, clawing behind her eyes. She smashed her heel down onto the jack-o’-lantern and the pumpkin exploded, orange innards everywhere. She stamped again, and again, until it was flat, just chunks and the little stringy goo that held them together.
It helped, actually, to pretend it was Sophia.
The rage burned itself out, but Jet suddenly lit up, here on the porch. A spotlight – no, two. Covering her eyes against the glare.
Headlights.
A car pulling up on the drive, parking beside the blue Range Rover.
It was Luke, coming home from work.
Jet scraped the pumpkin guts from the sole of her shoe – these Birkenstocks, man, been through a lot this week – and hurried down the steps, reaching the car before Luke had even switched the engine off.
Left hand. She grabbed the passenger door handle and opened it, dropping inside, shutting them in together. ‘Um, hi.’ Luke stared across at her, keys clutched in his hand. Scabs
starting to peel off his knuckles. ‘Yeah, um, hi,’ Jet replied. ‘Did you just smash our pumpkin?’ He looked through the window beyond her. ‘Yeah, I was mad,’ Jet said, no hesitation. ‘Where’s my list?’ ‘What?’ ‘The list of Mason Construction employees, Luke.’ Luke pinched his nose, sighed. ‘Fuck, Jet, I forgot.’ ‘You forgot?’ Jet leaned closer, a new glimmer of rage with a different face. This one lived in her chest. ‘Not like this is life-or-death or anything, Luke.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ His eyes flashed, catching the moonlight, reflecting it back at her. ‘Work has been crazy, with the North Street site shutting down and –’ ‘– Is there a reason you don’t want me to see it?’ Jet said, knowing there must be, that there was something more here. ‘Because you’ve sure been stalling a lot.’
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‘I just forgot, sorry.’ He looked down. ‘I don’t think you would forget. You know I have three days to live, how important this is to me. What’s going on, Luke?’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Just tell me. I know something’s going on.’ ‘There’s nothing going on.’ ‘You didn’t kill me, did you, Luke?’ Jet laughed but it was cold, empty, not quite sure of itself.
His jaw tensed, chewing on the stale air inside the car. ‘You seriously asking me that?’ ‘You weren’t here, at home, during the time when I was attacked. I know you lied about that.’ He sniffed. ‘Yes, I was. Me and Sophia –’ ‘– Sophia just told me,’ Jet said, a lie of her own. But she was pretty sure she was right, that Sophia had been home, and Luke hadn’t. ‘Those grazes on your hands, you didn’t get them Friday morning. There’s photos of you at the fair, Luke, I’ve seen them. Your hands are fine. You must have hurt them after, sometime Friday night.’ ‘While I was smashing your head in with a hammer?’ he asked, a laugh,
just as empty. ‘I’m just asking.’ ‘Well, don’t.’ Luke wiped his face, stubble hissing against his fingers. ‘You know it wasn’t me. You’re my sister, why would I want to kill you?’ Jet sat back. She could think of only one reason: if Luke knew about Dad’s plan to sell to Nell Jankowski, if getting rid of Jet was his only option.
Silence, too heavy, pressing down on Jet’s shoulders as she watched her brother, scoring his fingernail along the metal of his keys. ‘Is …’ Jet faltered, tried again. ‘Is getting Dad’s company really that important to you?’ Luke laughed, pressed the keys into his palm, little teeth leaving indents behind, marking him. ‘The most important. It’s literally the only thing that matters.’ ‘Really?’ Jet asked, trying to find his eyes. ‘Like you’ve spent your whole life fixated on this one goal, on achieving this one thing to prove to everyone that you can. And when you have – when you finally get it – life can actually, really begin, and you’ll finally be happy? Like that?’
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‘Yeah.’ Luke stared ahead. ‘Something like that.’ ‘But do you think it will?’ Jet looked out the windshield too. ‘Make you happy?’ Luke thought about it, sucking in all the air, leaving none for Jet. Pushed it back out. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. ‘It has to.’ He glanced over. ‘Why?’ Jet shrugged. ‘Just been thinking. About you and me, how we grew up. If we really understand what happy is supposed to look like. Because of Emily, because of what happened. Always being compared to her, the things she was going to do. Happened so much that I wonder if we think that life is just about constantly comparing ourselves. To Emily, to each other, to everyone else. To prove something, to Dad, to Mom especially. Like we can be good enough too. But is that right? Is that what it’s all supposed to be about or …’ Jet trailed off. She didn’t know where that was going either, what came after the or, what other choice there was. It was a stupid thought, blood leaking into her brain, making her think stupid things. ‘No, I don’t think about that,’ Luke said, shutting her down, unbuckling his seatbelt, like he was finished with this conversation.
But Jet wasn’t, and the world revolved around her this week. ‘You know,’ she said, raising her voice, bringing him back in. ‘You know you’ve always said you would give Dad one of your kidneys?’ Luke nodded, something new in his eyes, shifting. ‘I would have given you one too.’ Jet smiled, too wide. ‘Lucky it’s my brain that’s killing me, because you really can only give away one kidney, Luke.’ ‘Right.’ ‘Well,’ Jet said, ‘you might have to do that, for Dad, sooner rather than later. You can thank your wife for that.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ He looked across at her. ‘Tell Sophia Jet said to ask about the Lotrel and the salt.’ She smiled. ‘Make sure you do – it’s a pretty funny story, actually.’ Jet leaned her left arm across herself, reaching for the door handle. ‘My right arm doesn’t work anymore,’ she explained, catching the confusion on Luke’s face, opening the door. ‘Aneurysm’s leaking. Means it’ll only be a few days, so …’ Jet stared out the open door, the wind picking up, howling as it trespassed inside the car.
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She swung one leg out, hesitated, turned back.
‘Luke?’ ‘Jet?’ If Luke knew about Dad’s plan to sell the company to Nell Jankowski, then that gave him motive, and Jet couldn’t write him off. Even though he was her brother, even though they grew up together, even though he was supposed to be her ally, even though no one had truly felt like an ally inside the war zone of 10 College Hill Road, after Emily died.
His reaction would tell Jet everything she needed to know. ‘I found something out,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘And I think I should tell you, because it’s you, and it’s me.’ Luke shifted in his seat, facing her. ‘What?’ Jet swallowed. Luke could never hide his temper, never, so if it came out, then didn’t that clear him? ‘Dad isn’t planning to leave the company to you,’ she said, quickly, before she lost her nerve. ‘I know that’s what we all thought his plan was, when he retired. But …’ A shadow crossed Luke’s eyes, face shifting, crowding the corners of his mouth. ‘… He’s planning to sell the company, to Nell Jankowski,’ Jet continued, studying Luke, watching the shadow spread farther, bringing a flush of angry red out in his cheeks, creeping down his neck. ‘She owns a big home construction business, wants to expand here in Woodstock. Dad’s planning to sell to her, because he doesn’t think it’s fair to give you the company when he has two kids. Even though I would have never wanted it, Luke, you know that.’ His bottom lip dropped open, teeth bared. ‘Is this true?’ he said, voice just a dark whisper, holding it all back. ‘Or are you trying to hurt me?’ ‘It’s true,’ Jet said. ‘I spoke to Nell.’ Luke exploded, came apart at the seams, his eyes empty black holes, mouth one too. ‘Fuck!’ he roared, strings of saliva binding his teeth, just about holding his face together. ‘FUCK!’
He punched the steering wheel.
Screamed.
Punched it again with the other hand, opening the scabs on his knuckles, a trickle of blood across his wedding ring.
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‘Fuck!’ Luke screeched, taken over by his temper, possessed by it, hitting the steering wheel over and over.
The horn rang out as his fist connected.
And again.
Kept going, bloody knuckles, like the noise fueled him somehow. The
soundtrack to his fury. ‘FUCK!’ Jet stepped out of the car, left the door open, left her brother behind.
She walked down the darkened street.
Luke’s screams and the staccato of the wailing horn followed her all the way.
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