25. Mommie Dearest #3
“She was your daughter.”
“She was a fuckin’ mistake.”
The words landed with enough force to steal the air from my lungs. Even Kenya looked stunned. I stared at the woman sitting across from me. The woman who gave birth to us. The woman who somehow managed to become more monstrous every time she opened her mouth.
“She spent decades trying to destroy us.” My voice shook.
“She infiltrated our lives.” I took a step forward.
“She manipulated us and helped orchestrate attacks against this family.” I stood right in front of Sharon now, heart beating fast and fists clenched.
“And all of it started because she spent her entire life looking for love from a mother who didn’t give a damn. ”
Sharon looked uncomfortable, but she responded.
“Cameron always was weak. She couldn’t handle rejection.
Every time she reached out to me over the years, I would push her away, and she’d go running to your Aunt Lorraine.
Lorraine would call me and beg me to build a relationship with that girl, and I told her, like I’m telling y’all now, she wasn’t mine.
Yes, I gave birth to her, but she was her father’s daughter.
She didn’t need me. But Lorraine made her desire to be a part of this family worse. She would send her pictures.”
My pulse accelerated. “What pictures?”
“Pictures of y’all. Some from school, newspaper articles. Stats on sports y’all used to play.” Sharon waved dismissively. “Lorraine thought it helped her feel a part of the family.”
“Oh my God,” Kenya whispered it at the exact same time I thought it.
We finally understood. Cameron didn’t randomly become obsessed with us. She watched us for years through photographs, updates, and stories, and believed we were living the perfect life with our mom. Aunt Lorraine fed the fantasy, and it became muddled with resentment.
“Truth be told, you should probably blame Lorraine. Cameron still loves to go there for shelter when her heart is heavy.”
My heart started pounding because she didn’t realize what she’d just done.
She’d given us something. A lead, the first real lead we’d had in weeks.
Kenya looked at me with hope in her eyes, and without saying a single word, we both knew the exact same thing. If we found Aunt Lorraine, we might finally find Cameron.
Sharon mistook our silence for weakness. “Look at y’all.” The venom in her voice returned. “Still soft.”
Her eyes settled on me. “You especially.” The familiar cruelty filled her voice. “Untie me, you ungrateful little bitch. You all can give me some money, and I’ll disappear to Cuba.”
I ignored her words. Hell would freeze over before I let her go anywhere. Somewhere during this conversation, something inside me had finally died. Any hope that she was remorseful or that we could spare her life ceased.
Kenya began walking over to Sharon slowly. I followed her lead. Both of us glided through the room looking at peace.
“What y’all doing?” Sharon asked as she looked nervous.
Neither of us answered, because there was nothing left to say. I had no final speech or dramatic monologue to give. She had spent our entire lives choosing herself, and now we were finally choosing ourselves.
“Open your mouth, Sharon.”
Sharon began to shake her head. “Why?”
“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” Kenya’s words cut like venom, and the sound of them scared Sharon.
I grabbed my gun from its holster and pointed it at Sharon’s forehead. “You heard what the fuck my sister said, open your fuckin’ mouth.”
The smell of urine permeated the air, and a smile took over my face. The same bitch who called me weak was now sitting in her own urine.
Sharon opened her mouth and closed her eyes. I knew she expected Kenya to put her Glock in her mouth, and while we discussed a different outcome. Something cleaner and something that wouldn’t come back on us should she be found.
Kenya had a friend who created a pill that would cause cardiac arrest. Once Sharon swallowed it, she would have a heart attack almost instantaneously.
Kenya placed the pill in Sharon’s mouth and forced her mouth closed.
She held her mouth as Sharon bucked and fought not to swallow it.
But the more she fought, the harder Kenya clenched her jaw.
I kept the gun aimed at her head, and eventually Sharon swallowed.
The bitch went to open her mouth and give a dramatic monologue, but couldn’t. She instantly began to foam at the mouth and yell out in pain. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she began breathing rapidly. Kenya stood next to me and held my hand.
“We can leave. We don’t have to watch this, Baby Bear.”
“No, YaYa. I need to see her go with my own eyes.”
We watched her convulse, and her breathing go still. Kenya checked her pulse and confirmed she was gone.
As we turned toward the door, I felt peace wash over me because I realized something unexpected. The woman behind us wasn’t our mother anymore. She was just another ghost, and ghosts couldn’t hurt us once we stopped believing in them.