“Raymond, please… we can talk…”
But he was already heading upstairs.
Straight to the master bedroom.
Straight to the small white cabinet.
The one that was always locked.
The one he had never questioned.
“The key,”
he said, holding out his hand.
Natalie stepped back.
“I… I left it downstairs…”
“The key, Natalie.”
This time, it wasn’t a request.
Her hands trembled as she pulled a small gold key from her necklace.
The lock clicked open.
Raymond opened the cabinet.
And everything fell apart.
Inside—
bottles.
White powders.
Syringes.
Medications with no labels.
And strands of brown hair.
Sophia’s hair.
Kept… like trophies.
“Oh my God…”
Raymond whispered.
Leo pushed the wheelchair closer.
Sophia saw everything.
A broken cry escaped her.
“…you… you did this to me…”
Natalie dropped to her knees.
The act was over.
“No… it’s not what it looks like…”
“STOP!”
Raymond roared. “Look at her!”
Sophia was crying.
Not from pain—
but betrayal.
“I trusted you…”
she whispered. “I called you ‘mom’…”
That shattered Natalie.
She lowered her head.
“Yes… it was me.”
The silence that followed was unbearable.
“Why?”
Raymond asked, broken. “Why would you do this?”
Natalie looked up.
And there was no love left in her eyes.
Only coldness.