The Liability

Sirens wailed in the distance. The Silent Alarm had been triggered ten minutes ago.

"The police are coming," Mara said, standing up unsteadily. "We have to tell them. He tried to kill us both."

"No," Cassandra said. She walked over to the fireplace. She picked up a heavy iron poker.

"What are you doing?" Mara asked, backing away.

"Julian is going to prison," Cassandra said calmly. "But he’s rich. He has lawyers. If you testify, he might get a deal. He might claim insanity. He might get out in ten years."

She weighed the poker in her hand.

"I can't take that risk. And you... you’re the mistress. You’re the reason he did it. You’re a liability, Mara."

"Cassandra, please," Mara whimpered.

"Julian needs to be caught red-handed," Cassandra explained, as if discussing a coding problem. "He needs to be found standing over a fresh body, raving like a lunatic. That seals the insanity plea, but ensures he goes to the ward for the criminally insane. Forever."

"No!" Mara turned to run.

Cassandra moved with terrifying speed. She wasn't the weak, depressed woman Julian had married. She was a survivor.

She swung the poker.

It struck Mara in the temple. A sickening crunch echoed through the room. Mara fell instantly, dead before she hit the floor.

Cassandra dropped the poker. She walked over to Julian, who was still pinned by the door, groaning in pain, watching in horror.

"You're a monster," Julian whispered.

"I learned from the best," Cassandra said.

She picked up the empty gun Julian had thrown. She wiped her prints and pressed it into Julian’s hand.

Then she hit the release on the door.

The glass slid back. Julian fell forward into the living room, gasping.

He tried to stand, but his shoulder was crushed. He looked at Mara’s body. He looked at the poker. He looked at the gun in his hand.

"Veritas," Cassandra said. "Lights. Full brightness."

The house flooded with blinding white light just as the front door was battered down by the police.

"Police! Drop the weapon!"

Julian blinked, blinded, disoriented, holding the gun, kneeling next to his dead mistress.

He looked for Cassandra.

She was gone. She had slipped into the shadows of the hallway, vanishing into the architecture.

"She did it!" Julian screamed at the police as they tackled him. "My wife! She’s alive! She’s in the walls!"

"Cuff him!"

"She’s a ghost!" Julian raved, spittle flying from his lips. "She’s the house! Check the walls! Check the code!"

The officers dragged him away, a man broken, raving, and guilty as sin.