After leaving the party...

Alison paced back and forth across the room, her heel tapping against the tiled floor in rhythmic frustration. “I was so relieved just two days ago,” she muttered through gritted teeth, “finally able to punish that criminal. But Alicia? She knows. She’s furious right now, and I’m sure she’s going to tell Mother everything. I’m done for, Wilson! Done! I know Alicia—her temper is vicious. She’ll stop at nothing to get her revenge. What am I going to do? What will I do?”

Wilson’s voice broke through her rant, flat and matter-of-fact. “It’s simple.”

Alison froze, spinning toward him, eyes blazing. “Simple?!” she snapped. “You think this is simple?”

He stood up from the wine chair and slowly approached her, wrapping his arms around her neck in a way that felt almost too familiar. “You have two choices, Alison,” he said, his voice cool. “One: watch her tear everything apart. Your mom will hate you, see you as nothing but rotten. Alicia will steal all her love and trust, leaving you with nothing. Two…” He paused, studying the clenched fists in Alison’s hands, his gaze assessing. “What’s the guarantee that she’ll ever forgive you? Even if she does, what then? You’ll always be her puppet, and you’re too proud for that. So why not silence her forever?”

He whispered the last words into her ear, his tone low and insidious, like a snake tempting its prey.

Alison turned to face him, her face a mask of fury. “And I won’t be her puppet,” she growled, shaking her head, her eyes glinting with malice.

“Not to Alicia.”

“Then the best option is…” he trailed off, his voice almost playful.

“I’m going to kill her!” she spat out, her words laced with raw determination.

Wilson smiled slyly, his eyes darkening as he clenched his fists. “Good.”

Two hours later…

Alison burst into her room, slamming the door behind her as she collapsed against it, her body shaking. Dressed in all black—pants, double-breasted jacket, boots, gloves—she felt as cold and empty as the room around her. Tears streaked down her face as she stared down at her gloved hands, now stained with blood. The sight made her hands tremble uncontrollably.

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“No… no, no…” she whispered, her voice cracking as she squeezed her eyes shut.

She had gone to kill Alicia, but when she entered the room and saw Alicia’s broken, pitiful state, something inside her shattered. Guilt twisted in her chest, and she bit her tongue, disgusted with herself for feeling this way toward the one person she’d wanted to see dead for so long.

The moment the shard had sunk into Alicia’s stomach, Alison had felt a jolt of terror, her whole body locking in place as Alicia writhed in a pool of blood. After leaving her, guilt gnawed at her, suffocating her as she relived the scene in her mind.

“Alicia… Ali…” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Footsteps from the bathroom interrupted her thoughts. Startled, she looked up and saw Wilson leaning against the door, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her with curious eyes.

“Why are you crying, Alison?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted her dead, didn’t you?”

Alison’s chest tightened, and then she broke. Sobbing, she nodded violently, her voice raw. “Of course!” she cried, her words spilling out. “Yes, I always wanted her dead! I thought I would feel relieved, but I never knew it would feel like this.” She wiped her tears away, her hands shaking. “I thought I’d be happy once she was out of my way, that I’d finally have my parents’ love, but…” She shook her head violently. “I was wrong. I was wrong all along.”

Her palm hit her chest in agony, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “I’m scared! My heart’s pounding in my chest. I think I’m going to die of guilt!” she wailed. “Alicia… even with her stubbornness… she had a soft heart. I could see it in her eyes. She was ready to forgive me if I just asked! But I stabbed her instead… I did it! I…” She broke off into sobs. “I’m evil. I killed her…”

Wilson’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. “You think you’re evil now after you killed her? Why didn’t you think of that before?”

Alison’s sobs slowed, her breathing ragged. “I don’t know what it’s like,” she gasped, trying to calm herself. “I don’t know how I'll feel until I do it. I thought I’d feel relief, but all I feel is guilt. It’s eating me alive.”

Wilson chuckled darkly, strolling over to the bed and sitting on it, watching her with amusement. “You really must have loved her,” he mocked.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Alison screamed, her face flushed with rage.

“Seriously, Alison?” Wilson raised an eyebrow, his tone shifting to something more surprised. “This is what you wanted. You had no other option.”

Alison stopped crying, her face swollen and red. She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. “I saw the pain in her eyes. The betrayal,” she said, her voice hollow.

“She was angry with me. She was hurt. But you’re right. This is what I wanted all along. I’ve always wanted her dead, and now I’ve finally done it.” Her voice cracked as she spoke the final words. “I killed her…” she whispered, her face crumpling in grief.

Wilson sneered and shook his head, his expression unreadable as he watched her break.