MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Thirty-One: The Truth Begins
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The study was dark when Jay walked in.
She didn't turn on the lights. She walked to the map on the wall, her uncle's face pinned at the center, the strings spreading out like a web. She stood there for a long moment, looking at the photograph of the man who was supposed to be dead.
Her father's brother. The one who had died thirty years ago. The one who had started the war.
Except he hadn't died. He had been in Singapore all along, running Meridian Group, funding the war, watching his family destroy itself while he got rich.
She heard footsteps behind her. Keifer walked in. He didn't turn on the lights either. He stood beside her.
"Your father's brother," he said.
"He's alive."
"You're going to find him."
She looked at the photograph. At the face she had never seen before. At the man who had taken everything from her family.
"I'm going to find him," she said.
---
Mica arrived at dawn.
She came with Calix, their laptops under their arms, their faces pale. They had been working all night. They had found more. The money trail went deeper. The names went higher. The man in the photograph had been moving money through Singapore for thirty years, through banks that didn't ask questions, through accounts that didn't exist.
"He's been funding both sides," Mica said. "Your uncle. Keifer's father. Everyone. He's been paying everyone."
Jay stood at the map. The strings were getting longer. The web was getting wider.
"He wanted the war to keep going," Jay said. "He wanted our families to destroy each other."
Mica nodded. "He's been waiting. Thirty years. Waiting for both families to be weak enough for him to take over."
Jay looked at the photograph. At the man who was supposed to be dead.
"He's not going to wait anymore," she said.
---
Keifer found Keigan in the garden at noon.
He was standing by the fence, his arms crossed, his face cold. The flowers were blooming. The steps where Keifer sat every night were empty.
Keifer stood beside him.
"You knew," Keifer said.
Keigan didn't answer.
"About the man in Singapore. About the money. About the war. You knew."
Keigan's jaw tightened. "I knew."
Keifer looked at his brother. Seventeen years old. Already a killer. Already a weapon. Already the man their father had trained him to be.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Keifer asked.
Keigan turned. His face was cold. His eyes were not.
"Because you were happy," Keigan said. "For the first time in your life, you were happy. You had her. You had the house. You had—" He stopped.
Keifer waited.
"I wasn't going to take that away from you," Keigan said. "Not yet."
Keifer looked at his brother. The brother who had been trained to kill, who had been taught to feel nothing, who had been watching the war longer than anyone.
"She's going to find him," Keifer said. "The man in Singapore. She's going to find him and end this."
Keigan looked at the house. At the window where Jay's room was.
"I know," Keigan said.
---
Keiran found Jay in the study.
She was standing at the map, her back to the door, her hands at her sides. The strings and pins and photographs were spread across the wall. Her uncle's face. The man in Singapore. The war that had been going on his whole life.
Keiran stood in the doorway. His face was small. His hands were empty.
"Ate Jay," he said.
She turned. "Keiran."
He walked to her. He stood beside her. He looked at the map.
"Is that the bad man?" he asked. He pointed at the photograph of the man in Singapore.
She looked at the face. The face of her father's brother. The man who had started the war.
"Yes," she said.
Keiran looked at the map. At the pins and strings and photographs. At the war that had been going on longer than he had been alive.
"Kuya will stop him," Keiran said. "Kuya stops everyone."
Jay looked at the door. Keifer was in the kitchen, talking to Keigan, his voice low. She couldn't hear the words. She didn't need to.
"Your kuya is very good," she said.
Keiran looked at her. His face was serious. Ten years old, but serious.
"You're going to stop him too," he said. "You and Kuya. Together."
She looked at her hand. The ring was there. Gold. Thin. A circle that meant something now.
"Together," she said.
---
Percy found Jay in the garden at sunset.
She was sitting on the steps, her hands in her lap, her face turned toward the house. Keiran was inside, eating dinner with Keifer and Keigan. Their voices were low. The windows were bright.
Percy sat beside her.
"You found him," Percy said. "The man in Singapore."
"I found him."
Percy was quiet for a moment. Then he put his hand on her shoulder.
"You're going to go after him."
She looked at the house. At the window where Keifer was sitting with his brothers.
"I'm going to go after him."
Percy squeezed her shoulder. "Then I'm going with you."
She looked at him. His face was serious. For once, he wasn't laughing.
"You can't," she said.
He smiled. It was small. Sad. Real.
"I can. I will. You're my sister. You're not going anywhere without me."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she leaned against him. Her head on his shoulder. His arm around her.
"Thank you," she said.
He held her. "Always."
---
The night came.
Jay stood at her window. The garden was dark. The steps where she had been sitting were empty. Keiran was asleep in his room. Keigan was in his room, his light on, his door open.
The contract was on her nightstand. Twenty-three pages. Two years. A promise to leave.
She picked it up. She looked at the pages. At her signature. At his signature beside hers.
She walked to the study.
Keifer was there. He was standing at the map, his back to the door, his hands in his pockets. He turned when she walked in.
She held up the contract.
"I signed this because I was scared," she said. "I was scared of wanting something I couldn't keep."
He walked to her. He stood in front of her.
"I signed it because I was scared too," he said. "I was scared of wanting you."
She looked at the contract in her hands. At the pages that were supposed to protect them. At the promise they had made to leave.
"I'm not scared anymore," she said.
She tore the contract in half. Once. Twice. Three times. The pages fell to the floor between them.
Keifer looked at the pieces. He looked at her.
"What about the two years?" he asked.
She took his hand. Her fingers laced with his.
"I don't need two years," she said. "I need you."
He pulled her close. His arms went around her. His face was in her hair.
"You have me," he said. "You've always had me."
She held him. The contract was on the floor. The pages were scattered. The promise was broken.
She didn't care.
---
END OF CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE