The afternoon dragged by, and my head was pounding with every pulse of blood. It hurt so bad, I wondered if I had a concussion. But I wasn't dizzy or any of the other symptoms of a concussion. I just had a huge lump on my forehead. It hurt enough that it almost kept me from thinking of my dad.

He has a new fate in store for him.

I prayed they wouldn't hurt him. Maybe he was only trying to scare me. By 4:30, I wondered why the reunification therapists hadn't arrived yet. And how was Dr. Manning going to hide the big lump on my forehead?

Around 5:00 p.m. I heard the door unlock and swing open.

"Time for dinner, Corrine," Dr. Manning said without coming downstairs.

I slowly walked up the stairs, not feeling too confident on my feet—or confident about anything. He held the door open for me and led me to the kitchen table, just as he did for breakfast.

I should've been hungry since breakfast was so long ago, but between my head thumping and the twirls my stomach was doing about my dad and my future, food was the last thing on my mind.

"Have a seat, Corrine," Dr. Manning said. "Sophia here has made us another wonderful meal."

Stuffed bell peppers. salad, and toasted sourdough bread. I didn't know how I'd get myself to eat.

"Thank you," I said to her.

But she still wasn't looking my way. It was as if I didn't exist. I wondered if she was in any way mad at me. Or possibly scared for me.

They sat down quietly with none of the usual upbeat conversation. Dr. Manning reached for our hands, but it didn't register at first that he was going to say a prayer. Once I realized, I held Sophia's and his hands.

"Dear Lord, we thank you for this food you put before us this evening. We ask that you bless us and watch over us during this difficult transition. Please give James strength as he finds his way. Amen."

Sophia said amen as well. I didn't say anything. I needed the prayers the most.

We passed around the food and ate in silence, other than a reminder from Dr. Manning to Sophia to pick up his prescription from the pharmacy. I forced down a few bites, trying to be polite, but I couldn't bear to eat.

As Sophia began clearing the table (and still not looking at me), Dr. Manning said, "Oh, Corrine. Detective Santini sent me an interesting article I printed out for you a bit ago."

He got up and walked down the hall, presumably to his office. Sophia walked over to the table and grabbed my plate for me.

"Sophia, please talk to me," I pleaded.

"I can't," she whispered and glanced toward the hallway.

"Why not?"

"Don't get me into trouble, too."

"That's why you won't talk to me?"

She looked frantic. "I don't know who you are anymore. I thought we were friends."

"We are friends. I'm trying to save us," I protested, but she shushed me as Dr. Manning approached.

"Okay, I have it," he said as he moved his seat next to me and sat down. He was holding a piece of paper.

"I'm going to the bedroom, Richard," Sophia announced.

"Okay, dear," he said as he stood and kissed her on her cheek. She only turned halfway to accept it. He sat back down.

"Now, Corrine." His touch on my forearm gave me chills. "You know your choices come with grave consequences. Most of that will be when James gets ahold of you. But for now, I can share with you your first punishment."

I couldn't look at him, just his hand on my arm. I couldn't breathe. In that moment I somehow knew nothing was ever going to be the same again.

He handed me the piece of paper. It was a newspaper clipping from online. The Daily Tribune. That was our local newspaper at home.

The title said, "Man Succumbs to Injuries." I read the first paragraph. "A man has lost control of his BMW 325 vehicle and careened off the hillside for approximately 75 yards."

I knew instantly the man was my father.

"We warned you . . . it's unfortunate . . . should've listened . . ." Dr. Manning was saying, but it only sounded like gibberish.

I couldn't hold the paper steady to read any further. Not that I needed to read the rest anyway. My stomach lurched. I ran to the kitchen sink and barely made it before what was left of my dinner was out.

"My dear, my dear," Dr. Manning said in a mocking tone, walking over to me and rubbing my back. "Don't be so shocked. You had to have seen this coming. In fact, I do believe he was supposed to have been taken care of the first time you pulled this stunt. Correct?"

I kept shaking my head. "No, no. He can't be dead."

"Oh, he very well is. No doubt about that. Hence, there's no Daddy in Kansas for you."

"I hate you," I said through gritted teeth.

He chuckled. "That's not very wise, Corrine. I'm about the only person in your corner right now."

I didn't care. My life was over. Without my dad, I couldn't see any future. I couldn't see any anything.

Dr. Manning stood behind me as I crouched over the sink shaking.

"No, my dear. The best thing for you right now is to do as you're told and cooperate. I think dinner's over, and it's time to go back to the basement."

The touch of his hands on my shoulders made me vomit in the sink again. I tried to shake him off, but his hands were glued to me. I had to think quickly. My dad was dead. There was no turning back. No turning back. No more living a lie. My life, this life, was over, no matter what happened.

It was so clear to me, as I stared down into the sink at the dirty dishes with my vomit on them. And the bread knife underneath that Sophia used to cut the sourdough bread with. I could see my reflection in the blade—a pitiful shell of my old self.

I turned on the water and acted as if I was rinsing out my mouth.

"Dr. Manning, you're right. I need to cooperate. What can I do to make things better?"

I grabbed the knife.

"I don't know how possible it is, but—"

I turned around and thrust the long knife into his stomach. Out and back in. Out and back in. Out and back in. I didn't know how many times I cut him, but there was blood all over. He slouched over almost on top of me, forcing me back against the sink. With one big shove, I pushed him off of me and onto the floor with a thud when his head hit the tile. His eyes were still open, and blood was all over his clothes and the floor.

He was definitely dead. No need to take his pulse.

My hands shook like crazy, and I dropped the knife onto the floor. I did it. I did it. The son of a bitch was dead. And I did it.

Shake it off, Corrine. Get your act together.

I wiped my bloody hands on one of Sophia's precious kitchen towels and threw it on top of Dr. Manning's head. I searched through his front pockets and found his keys. Back pockets. Wallet. $320 in cash. Just like a rich doctor.

I prayed Sophia wouldn't come back out. Knowing the conflict Dr. Manning and I were having, I doubted she'd leave her bedroom reprieve.

I ran down to the basement to the washer and dryer and grabbed some of Sophia's more casual clothes. Anything I could change into later and ditch my blood-soaked clothes.

I scrambled up the stairs and into the garage to see Dr. Manning's Porsche waiting for me. No, too conspicuous. I could imagine town folk seeing his car and wondering who I was. And what if the B.F.O. saw me? Eyes were everywhere.

Sophia's SUV was sitting next to the Porsche. That'd be much better. I looked at his keys and found the Toyota key. I clicked on the garage door opener and jumped into the car. It felt like the garage door was opening at a snail's pace.

I turned on the car. Took a deep breath. Put on my seatbelt. Took another deep breath.

Calm down. Stay focused.

I put her car in reverse and slowly backed up and onto the street. Put it in drive and began down the street. But I realized I didn't close the garage door. Even though the Mannings lived in a pretty reclusive area on the lake, anyone could drive by and suspect trouble with a garage open overnight. I put the car in reverse and hit the gas until I was back at the house. I looked around for the garage door opener, found it in the middle console, went to pick it up but dropped it onto the driver's side floor. Every time I reached for it, I unknowingly lifted my foot off the brake and lurched backward. It took me three tries to finally grab it. I was a wreck. I'd never get to safety if I didn't get my act together.

I pointed the opener toward the garage when I screamed. Oh, my God! Sophia was at the passenger side and pounded on the window.

"What are you doing? What are you doing? You killed Richard!"

Pound. Pound. Pound.

"Sophia, it's going to be okay," I yelled. "I'm going to get us help."

"I don't need any help, you imbecile! I need Richard. You've gone crazy!"

"Trust me, Sophia. I'm going to get us help."

In the dimming daylight, I could see Sophia's eyes turn dark and squinted.

"Like hell you are. You're not going anywhere."

She moved to the front of the car and blocked the road. A standoff.

I rolled down the driver side window just enough for her to hear me yell, "Sophia, get out of the way!"

"No! Get out of the car."

The car was still in reverse, so I floored it and turned the wheel clockwise. The SUV went up the driveway, almost hitting the garage door. I put the car in drive, went to hit the gas again, but Sophia had run up the driveway and stood in front of the car again. Damn it!

"Move!"

She slammed her fists on top of the hood and looked at me, a woman taken over by anger and insanity.

"Sophia, move!" I repeated.

"You're not going anywhere. We'll find you. You know that."

I rolled down the window a bit more.

"Don't you want to go home?" I yelled, but a little softer this time.

"This is my home!" she said through gritted teeth.

There wasn't going to be any intervention. She was way gone a long time ago. That I knew the first time I met her. But I had hoped I could take her with me. Save her. But you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

I released the brake a tad to inch forward, pushing Sophia back a few inches.

"You're not going anywhere!" she screamed. She leaned forward even more, pushing against the car with all her might.

I inched forward again. And again. And again. Slowly we headed down the long driveway in unison, a dance with the enemy. As I got to the bottom of the driveway, I turned left and Sophia went with me. Was she going to walk backward for miles? I wasn't going to get rid of her at this rate.

She pushed hard against the grill of the SUV, as if she could stop it with some unknown super powers. She was crazy. I had to shake her off. So I stopped the car and sat there idling. We glared at each other. The Sophia I knew was nowhere in there.

A minute must've passed with us staring at each other. Suddenly, I put the car in reverse and hit the gas to back up about 100 feet. Put it in drive and floored it, turning to the left, headed for the front lawn to go around her.

Up the sidewalk I went, knocking over the mailbox, and I saw Sophia running at full speed to stop me. How could she ever think she could stop a 2 ton SUV? She was a madwoman. She reached the lawn and the middle of my path just in time for her to raise her hands in revolt.

But it was too late. I hit her going about fifteen miles per hour, saw her head and hands hit the hood violently, and then the SUV drug her for about twenty feet before she slipped down underneath. I felt the back left tire run her over. And that was that. I couldn't do anything for her.

I looked in the rearview mirror and saw her lying on the sidewalk motionless. I must've watched for two or three minutes, tears falling down my cheeks.

Get out of the car, Corrine. See if she's okay.

But I couldn't do it. Just couldn't do it. Besides, if she was alive what could I possibly do to help her? Call 911? No way.

So, I hit the gas and looked forward with determination. No one was going to stop me. No one. Including the fucking B.F.O.

It was getting darker, and I could see more lights to the north of me, so I headed that way, not knowing any landmarks. I had to find a freeway. After about ten minutes I finally saw a sign, Highway 335 and headed north, the opposite way of our old house. My old life.

I wondered where I could go that the B.F.O. wasn't.

The B.F.O. is everywhere, I heard Dr. Manning's voice echo in my head.

I had to ditch this car. And fast. How long would it take before someone found Sophia lying on the sidewalk? Hopefully not until the morning. Thank God they lived on a private street.

It was almost fully dark by then, and I hoped that would help me blend in. The freeway was a little crowded, probably from the end-of-the-weekend traffic.

It felt so foreign to drive for the first time in over a year. But I didn't have time to think about it for long. I had to focus on a plan. And quick. I only had a little less than a quarter of a tank of gas left.



Only one more chapter to go! Will Corrine get out from under the B.F.O.'s watch? Click below to read the very last chapter! :)