A R I A

I feel as bruised as Uncle Paul looks. It's like I've been slapped in the face in front of an enormous crowd. The cracks in my heart become larger until it finally shatters all over again.

My Aunt Lydia.

The woman who'd always manage to make me laugh no matter the circumstances, the person who'd cry with me and hold me together so I wouldn't fall apart. One of the most supportive, loving, and important people in my life, the person who I thought would always be there for me, has been against me this whole time.

Oh god, no. No, no, no! How could it be her? How could my Aunt Lyd be my parents' murderer? No, this has got to be a joke or, hell, an episode or something. This can't be real. She has to be kidding.

"No . . ." I breathe out, shaking my head furiously. This isn't the Lydia I know. "It can't be you. It can't. Not you, Aunt Lyd."

"What?" she scoffs, a smirk forming on her lips, but it's not the usual teasing kind. It's the type villains wear in movies, and that alone is enough to send shivers down my spine. "You think I'm joking?"

All of a sudden she's aiming the pistol at my feet, and before anyone can even register what's happening she pulls the trigger. My screams are engulfed with the sound of the gunshot, Paul's grunts, Miles' yelling, and Aunt Lydia's chuckles.

I shut my eyes and wait for the familiar pain to course through my body, but when it doesn't come I slowly open them up to see pieces of hardwood plank in front of my feet, the area been completely demolished. The only pain I can feel are tiny splinters in my toes, and though they make me grunt, there is no pain greater than the ache in my shattered heart.

"I don't kid around, Aria," she spits my name like each letter is dripping with venom and her tone of voice makes me flinch, "not anymore. I have been waiting for this moment since before you were even born, and now that it has finally arrived, I can guarantee you that no one but myself will leave this house without a bullet hole in their head."

My eyes snap to Miles, who's frantically searching for a weapon of some sort. Oh, god. How is this happening?

"My only dilemma," Aunt Lydia continues, a malicious smirk stretching across her lips, "is that I have to decide who to kill first."

No, no, no.

"You?" I choke out, still unable to believe this is happening. "It was you? You killed them, A-Aunt Lyd?"

"Jesus," she mutters, and I catch her rolling her eyes as a sliver of moonlight crosses over her face, "how many times am I going to have to repeat myself? Yes, you stupid girl. It was me."

Uncle Paul starts groaning behind me, but I don't dare look away from Lydia. I'm frozen. It's all too absurd. My Aunt Lydia, Oreo addict and professional matchmaker, has been the enemy all this while. My enemy. The mastermind behind my parents' murder. Their killer.

"I think I'll save you for last," Lydia speaks again, jutting her chin towards my direction, "after all, I've waited this long. Might as well kill the pretty boy off first."

Miles. Oh, god, Miles.

Aunt Lydia raises the gun again, this time pointing it in Miles' direction. Fear surges through my veins and I'm about to lunge until my eyes connect with his. He's shaking his head at me, silently telling me not to do anything stupid. But what else is there to do?

"D-Don't," a croaky voice murmurs from behind me, "don't hurt t-them, Lydia."

I turn ever so slightly to see Uncle Paul struggling to keep his head up.

Lydia gives him a bored look and places her hands on her hips. The lights begin to flicker, and so I catch a glimpse of her arched brow. For a moment, I see her. My aunt. I almost give in to the idea that she might actually be messing with us, but that bit of hope is only false.

"Please, enlighten me, Paul," she scoffs, "why wouldn't I pull this trigger right now? Don't you know how much money I've wasted just trying to get this brat," Lydia points to me, "killed? She's caused me enough trouble just looking at her."

"That's why you guys are struggling to pay the bills," Miles says, slowly moving towards me, "you hired Michael to be the decoy when you killed Aria's parents, and then you tried to have her killed that day when she was shot. But no, that doesn't make sense. How would you get in touch with Michael?"

I hold my breath, trying to recall something. Anything. But my mind is a mess, and all I can think about is how my Aunt Lydia has turned out to be the one person I've been trying to hunt down. How could she? This can't be happening. 

"I'd have to give your father credit for that, Miles," Lydia says, smirking, "he's been very helpful."

What?

Through the flickering lights I see the colour drain from Miles' face. He's rendered speechless, and so am I. Gabe was helping her? Part of me is relieved to know he hasn't been going behind Kristen's back to have an affair with someone, but this? This is not what I was expecting. This is much worse.

But, shit, it makes sense. My parents had met Miles' parents long ago, so that must be how Lydia got in touch with Gabe.

"What . . ." Miles says, shaking his head, "what do you mean?"

"You want to know how I got a hold of your brother, Miles? Well, to be frank, it wasn't that hard," Aunt Lydia says boredly, "you see, I just needed someone who'd be willing to be apart of my plan for the right amount of money. After all, isn't that what we're all chasing? No one in their right minds would turn down an offer like that, not if they're desperate enough. Even psychopaths. Especially psychopaths.

"I already had connections with someone who knew one—it was just too easy. Gabe was more than willing to break his son out of that asylum, and his son was more than willing to get the job done. It's as simple as that, really. At the end of the day, anyone would do anything if it meant money. I was just lucky Michael was, well, experienced."

That's where the sudden heaps of money came from.

The look on Miles' face tells me he's thinking the same thing. 

"That's how he got into our house that day," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to the floor, "in the basement. My dad let him in, didn't he?"

Lydia snorts. "Are you serious? He gave him a key, honey. Gabe was too busy sleeping that day."

"So, what, you gave him a key to our house, too?" I snap, recalling the time when I saw a person in my room. 

But now that I think of it as my mind starts to clear up, the figure did look like it had more of a female body shape. Oh, god. This is really happening, isn't it? It was Lydia in my room that day, wasn't it? And she was the one who trashed my room and had the walls painted red, wasn't she? After all, she had been the only person at home. Her shift never ended that early. Why didn't I pick up on that? Have I really been so ignorant?

"No," I whisper hoarsely, "it was you. It was always you. It was you who planted the gun to make us think it was Uncle Paul, and you wanted me to find it. That's why you wore that watch and purposely brought Mom's clothes. I should've suspected you from that moment, I knew it didn't make sense how her clothes suddenly got into my closet when I kept them in a chest under my bed. You took so long because you were plotting, not because you were watching television. I—"

"Well, no, not exactly," she scoffs, cutting me off, "I was honest about Teen Wolf airing."

"Today in the woods, that was you, too. You didn't get home from a meeting, this was your plan. And Gabe was the one driving, that's how you got here so fast." It's all making sense now, but at the same time, it doesn't. I don't understand. I don't understand how any of this is happening, and I don't understand how that pistol Lydia's holding was the same gun used to kill Mom and Dad. I don't understand why.

"A-And when . . . that d-day I found them, there was no sign of forced entry. That's because it was you. They trusted you. I trusted you, and so did Paul."

"It's always the ones you never expect, Aria," Lydia smiles maliciously, twirling the pistol, "and that's why if you were smart enough, you would have expected it. That's where you failed, and now you, your boyfriend, and your beloved uncle Paul are going to have to face the consequences."

That's when it hits me.

That's all it takes. It's true. Aunt Lydia doesn't exist anymore. She's gone. Her eyes no longer glimmer with the love I thought she had for me, but instead there's only hate and cruelty swarming them. The woman standing in front of me, holding the very same weapon that killed my parents, is not my aunt. I've lost her. Oh, god, I've really lost her.

"Y-You . . . you k-killed them," I croak, my bottom lip quivering as my whole body trembles, "you killed them. You made me an orphan, and you lied to me. Everything was a l-lie. You killed them, my p-parents."

"Aria . . ." Miles says in a warning tone, but I ignore him. I have to know. I can't die without knowing. I won't.

"Why?" Through my blurry vision, I look her in the eye. "Why'd you d-do it?"

The corners of Lydia's lips twitch upwards. She finds this amusing. She always had—she was just waiting for the day where she could break her facade. At that very moment, I want to lunge and slap that crude smirk off her lips. I want to throttle her. I want to tear the pistol out of her grasp and press it against her head, and blow her brains out like she did my father's.

But I won't. I'm not a monster. She is.

It's amazing how it only took minutes to turn my love for this woman into hate. All I feel now is my boiling blood, and my streaming tears are no longer because of sadness, but because of rage.

"My sister was the epitome of perfection," Lydia begins, "she was elegant, sophisticated, beautiful. Emmy was the intelligent one, always scoring the highest marks in all her classes. You already know this, obviously. But you've never had a sibling, so you've never known what it's like. I lived in her shadow my whole life. She was our parents' dream child. While they showered her with affection they practically forgot I ever existed. I spent more time with the maids than I did with my family.

"I was nothing but baggage to them, that was clear to me. But Emery? Well, she was just little miss perfect. She always got whatever she wanted." Lydia's face twists into a sneer, "And then, I met Kyan. Boy, was he gorgeous. I could stare at that face all day long."

"Seriously?" Uncle Paul chokes out, chuckling humourlessly, "You were in l-love with my brother and you married me? That's a l-low blow, Lyds."

"You should have kept the tape on his mouth," She growls in response and pauses, continuing with her story, "Yes, I loved Kyan. But I could never have him, because he was Emery's, and Emmy got everything and everyone she wanted. So when I married this piece of garbage, "she sneers at Uncle Paul, "I thought it would get me closer to him. Except Kyan wouldn't even so much as look in my direction. My sister had him blinded."

"Oh, great. Another psychopath to deal with," Miles mutters under his breath beside me, "How wonderful."

I pinch him.

"Naturally, I had to get rid of her," Lydia shrugs, "But then, you came along, you stupid, spoiled brat. There was no choice left, I had to kill Kyan too. He would never leave you and Emmy. I could've ended right there and then, all three of you dead in the same house. You just had to go around causing trouble at school to land yourself in detention. That's the only thing that saved you, but now, nothing is in my way. Now, I can take my time with all of you."

My mind is reeling. Miles is right—Lydia is a psychopath. She's insane. Oh, god, she's mad. How could she have done this?

"She was your sister!" I scream, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me, "She was your sister, and you killed her because of jealously? You killed my father because he would never love you? How could y-you? You're sick! You're a monster, Lydia!"

How could she?

Hot tears are streaming down my cheeks as my body trembles. My parents died at her hands, and now we are about to, too.

"She loved you, and you b-betrayed her. M-Mom treasured you. You were everything to her, and you killed her. You killed my d-dad. You made m-me an orphan. How could you?"

I don't realize I've started to move towards Lydia until Miles pulls me back. She only smirks in response and before I know it, she pulls out the pistol again and shoots. I release a terrified scream, my shock only getting worse when I feel something splatter on my skin. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open in horror when the familiar stench of blood hits my nose. But no part of my body has been shot at. The blood isn't mine.

"Miles!"

He's dropped to the floor, grunting in pain as his hands press against his thigh. His teeth are clenched and his breathing is heavy. He's been shot. Oh, god. She shot him.

"Miles, Miles!" I take his face into my hands and shake him to get his eyes open, "Miles, look at me. Stay awake, okay? Just keep applying pressure."

He hisses but somehow manages to nod his head. Shit, he's already lost a good amount of blood. I curse and frantically look around to find something I can use. Relief floods through me when my hands grasp a thick scarf. It's Lydia's, of course, but I couldn't care less about that. I move his hands off the injury and tie the scarf around his thigh tightly.

"I've had enough of this chitchat," My head snaps back to Lydia. Her eyes are set on Miles, and she's got the gun aimed at his head this time. "Story time's over."

Oh, God. I can't let this happen. "No! Lydia, d-don't! Ple—"

"You should've gone home, Miles."

Without hesitation, I jump in front of him just as I hear the click of the pistol and squeeze my eyes shut. It feels like an eternity as I wait for the blood-curdling gunshot sound, but it never comes. Instead, it's the sound of something shattering and dropping.

When I open my eyes, they land upon pieces of ceramic scatter all over the floor. I recognize them immediately—they're from the vase in my room that held the blue tulips. Lydia's body lying on the floor, face down, knocked out cold. Someone else is now standing in her place, panting heavily with dishevelled blonde hair.

"I'm sorry," Kristen says, "I think I broke your vase."

●●●

For those of you who may be confused, Kris is Miles' mother. Isn't she a badass?

Okay, so, new plan. There will be another chapter after this, and that will be the final one. Plus the epilogue, of course. It's been well over a month since I last updated and guys, I really am sorry for keeping you waiting after the ending of the previous chapter. But over the past few weeks I've been having some personal issues, so I hope you all understand. This month is going to be extremely busy for me since I have summer classes and I really have to focus. But, knowing me, I will probably be procrastinating quite a lot, so I might as well be writing when I do, it just won't be a lot. I just hope to get this wrapped up as soon as possible. There's no guarantee that I'll post the next chapters this month because of how busy I'll be :(

So, this is the big reveal! Ugh it didn't really turn out how I wanted it to but whatever. What do y'all think?

On another note, oh my god, LMA only has 3k more reads to go before we hit 100k! Aaahhh I still can't believe it. That's insane. You guys have no idea how much you mean to me 😭 I love you all so much

I'll see you guys soon, hopefully!

Chloe ❤