The Next day
Jaden leaned against the doorframe of the guest room, arms crossed loosely over his chest despite the fresh bandages wrapping his shoulder. Inside, Rose slept peacefully under crisp white sheets, IV line dripping steadily, monitors beeping in soft rhythm. The bullet had been removed cleanly; Dr. Patel had said she'd make a full recovery with rest and physical therapy. No nerve damage. No permanent harm.
The guilt still sat heavy in Jaden's gut, he'd dragged an innocent stranger into this nightmare but seeing her breathe steady and even eased something inside him.
He turned, only to find Genesis standing a few feet away in the hallway, a small, tired smile on her face.
"How is she now?" she asked softly.
Jaden pushed off the frame and fell into step beside her as they walked toward the living room. "She's fine now. Stable. Patel says she'll be okay, she just needs time."
Genesis nodded, glancing sideways at his bandaged shoulder. "And you? You're still bleeding through that dressing."
He shrugged, winced and gave a half-smile. "Been better. Been worse."
They walked in companionable silence for a moment, footsteps muffled on the thick carpet.
Genesis finally asked the question that had been burning since she'd first held his hand.
"Your hand… is it really true? You won't be able to dance with it again?"
Jaden laughed, short, bitter, but genuine. "Yeah. Seems so." He lifted the bandaged hand slightly, flexing what little he could. "Tendons are shredded. Bones fused wrong. I can still grip a fork, maybe type with two fingers if I'm lucky. But lifting a partner? Turning? No. Ballet's done."
Genesis stopped walking. Her eyes filled with deep sadness.
"Kieran had no right to do that," she said fiercely. "None. I'll make him apologize. He'll…"
Jaden shook his head, cutting her off gently. "He won't. And even if he did… it wouldn't change anything. He's proud. Stubborn. And honestly?" He met her gaze. "He was protecting you. I crossed a line that day. I know it."
Genesis looked away, swallowing hard. "Still. It wasn't fair."
"Life rarely is." He gave a small, crooked smile. "But we'll find the best doctors. See if there's anything they can do, nerve grafts, therapy, whatever. I'm not giving up completely."
She searched his face. "You really think there's a chance?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But even if there isn't…" He shrugged again, lighter this time. "Ballet isn't the only thing in the world."
Genesis blinked. "But it's your passion."
"It was," he admitted quietly. "And don't get me wrong, I loved it. But it was also what Mom really wanted. She pushed me into classes when I was four. Every competition, every audition… It was her dream more than mine. I was good at it, so I kept going. But now?" He looked down at his ruined hand. "I can still use it for other things. Writing. Drawing. Maybe even teaching kids who aren't obsessed with perfection. There are other ways to move. Other passions I never let myself chase because I was too busy chasing hers."
Genesis smiled softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair like she used to when they were at the studio. "Look at you. Growing up."
He ducked away, laughing. "Don't start."
They reached the living room.
Revelation was pacing like a caged panther, holding up that same ascot, brown, expensive, stained with dried blood. Her eyes were bright with manic glee.
"We've really got him," she announced the second they walked in. "Keenan left this on Amelia's neck like some twisted love token. DNA on it, fingerprints probably. We blackmail him with it."
Veronica, seated on the couch with her arms crossed, shook her head. "No. We take it to the cops. All of it. The pieces, the ascot, the timeline, he was the last person seen with her alive. That way he's finished."
Revelation spun on her. "And give the feds a chance to screw it up? Or let some high-priced lawyer get him off on a technicality? No. We handle this ourselves."
Veronica stood. "And become exactly like him? No. We're better than that."
Knight leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, expression closed off.
Genesis stepped into the center of the room.
The argument died instantly.
Everyone turned to her.
She looked straight at Knight.
"What's your plan?" she asked quietly.
Knight pushed off the wall. Opened his arms.
Genesis crossed the room without hesitation and walked into them. He wrapped her up tight, chin resting on her head, one hand splayed protectively over her lower back.
"My plan," he said against her hair, "is simple. We hand over Amanda's remains. All of them. The ascot stays with the top half, his DNA, his prints, his stupid sentimental signature. We let the authorities find it. They'll trace it back to him. He was the last person seen with her alive. That's dismemberment. Premeditated. He'll be arrested within hours."
Revelation's eyes narrowed. "And we just trust the system?"
Knight's arms tightened around Genesis. "We don't have to trust it. We make sure it can't fail. I have people inside, witness statements, security footage next to the building where he killed her. It'll be airtight. Keenan won't know we orchestrated the delivery. He'll think his own men betrayed him. He panics. He makes mistakes. And when he's in a cell… we finish it quietly."
Genesis lifted her head, looking up at him. "Quietly?"
Knight's eyes were calm. Cold. "He doesn't walk out of that cell alive. But the world will think he killed himself or mess with the wrong people. No trail back to us."
Silence.
Then Revelation exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if the cops fuck it up…"
"They won't," Knight said simply.
Genesis rested her forehead against his chest again.
The plan was set.
But before anyone could speak again..
A sharp knock echoed from the front door.
Everyone froze.
Elena moved first, slipping to the foyer with practiced silence. She checked the peephole, then opened the door a crack.
Two men in dark suits stood outside.
"FBI," the taller one said, flashing a badge. "We need to speak with Genesis Caldwell-Blackwood."
The room went still.
Genesis lifted her head from Knight's chest.
Her eyes met his.
****
FBI Field Office – Interview Room
Genesis sat across from Special Agent Hale, hands folded in her lap, face pale but composed. Kieran sat beside her, silent, immovable.
The room was small. Gray. One-way mirror. Recorder blinking red.
Hale placed a tablet on the table and slid it toward her.
"We received an anonymous package a few weeks ago and also two days ago," he said quietly. "Over two hundred tapes. Converted from VHS. All featuring Dr. Aiden Reeve assaulting young girls, ages seven to sixteen under sedation in his exam room at St. Brielle Memorial."
Genesis's breath caught.
Hale tapped the screen.
A video began.
A small, drugged girl on an exam table.
Genesis as a young girl.
She stared at the footage. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Hale paused it after one minute.
"We authenticated them," he said softly. "Dates match medical records. Your name is on every intake form. Your stepmother's signature is on every consent. And Reeves' own logs confirm she requested heavy sedation…'memory fog protocol'and paid extra for it."
Genesis didn't speak.
Tears kept falling.
Kieran's hand found hers under the table. She gripped it so hard her knuckles turned white.
Hale continued, voice gentle. "Dr. Reeve is still missing. We don't think he's alive. But we need to know, do you remember any of this?"
Genesis shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered. "I… I hated going to that hospital. I always felt sick afterward. Tired. Like I'd been dreaming bad things. But I never… I never remembered."
Hale nodded. "That's consistent with high-dose midazolam. Victims often repress or fragment memories. But they're coming back for others. They will for you too."
He slid another photo across, Monica's signature on a 2012 form.
"Your stepmother was there. Every time. Did she ever… say anything?
Genesis closed her eyes.
Memories flickered, small, jagged.
Monica's voice: "Be a good girl. The doctor's just helping you."
The cold gel on her skin.
The mask over her face.
The darkness.
Genesis opened her eyes. Tears streamed freely now.
"She knew," she whispered. "She took me there. She told me it was for my own good. That I was… broken. That I needed fixing."
Hale's jaw tightened.
Kieran's grip on her hand became almost painful.
"We're moving to arrest Monica Caldwell tonight," Hale said quietly. "With your statement, we have enough for conspiracy, endangerment, and accessory to sexual assault of a minor. Multiple counts."
Genesis nodded once.
She looked at Kieran.
He stared straight ahead, expression unreadable.
But she knew.
She knew he'd sent those tapes.
She knew he'd killed Reeves.
She knew and she didn't speak.
The interview ended shortly after.
They left the building in silence.
The moment they reached the car, Genesis broke.
A raw, gut-wrenching wail tore from her throat. She doubled over, hands pressed to her face, body shaking with sobs that came from somewhere deep and shattered.
Kieran reached for her.
She jerked away.
"You knew," she choked out. "You knew about it. All of it."
He froze.
"You knew about the tapes. About what he did to me. And you didn't tell me."
"Genesis…."
"You let me sit in that room and watch myself being raped. You let me see it for the first time in front of strangers. You didn't warn me. You didn't protect me from that."
Tears streamed down her face.
"Where is Dr. Reeve?" she whispered.
Kieran didn't lie.
"Dead."
She stared at him, eyes wide, horrified.
"You killed him."
He nodded once.
Genesis screamed, a sound of pure anguish and slapped him across the face. Hard. The crack echoed in the car.
Kieran didn't flinch. Didn't move.
She hit him again. And again. Open-palmed, furious, grieving.
"What else?" she sobbed. "What else are you hiding from me?"
Kieran caught her wrists gently, firm enough to stop her, soft enough not to hurt.
"Revelation," he said quietly.
Genesis went still.
"What?"
"She's your twin sister."
The world tilted.
Genesis stared at him.
"No."
"Yes."
She shook her head violently. "No. No. That's not, my mother only had me. I was alone. I was always alone."
Kieran's voice cracked just barely.
"Your mother had twins. She ran off with Revelation because her life was in danger, she didn't die."
Genesis's sobs turned ragged.
"You knew?"
"I found out after we married."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I was waiting. For the right time. For you to be safe."
"Safe?" She laughed, broken, bitter. "I'm not safe with you. I'm drowning in your secrets."
She pulled away from him, curling into herself on the seat.
"I can't do this anymore," she whispered.
Kieran's face crumpled, the first real fracture she'd ever seen.
"Genesis…."
"I can't be with you."
The words landed like a death sentence.
Kieran stared at her, eyes dark with something close to terror.
She looked out the window, tears still falling.
"I need to breathe," she said quietly. "I need space. I need to remember who I am without your shadow over every part of my life."
Kieran's hands clenched into fists on his thighs.
He didn't speak.
He didn't beg.
He just nodded once.
The car kept driving.
And between them, the silence was louder than any scream.