CHAPTER 318: SPARE THEIR LIVES (4)

Reagan’s POV

My mother’s eyes were bright with fear and hunger at once. "What did he say? Tell me," she pressed.

I swallowed, the words heavy in my throat. I breathed in, closed my eyes for a second to steady myself, and let it out slowly. "Nancy told the police in an indirect way that I’m not innocent in David’s death. She worded it like a threat: she’ll reveal everything when she testifies. My lawyer got a tip from someone at the station. He called me just minutes after Georgia disappeared."

The silence that followed felt like a hand squeezing my chest. My mother’s face, usually so composed, crumpled. "What are you telling me, Reagan? Did you—did you kill David and frame Nicholas?" The question hit like a fist.

"No, oh God no," I snapped, too quickly. The denial tasted hollow even to my own ears. "I had nothing to do with David’s death. I swear. But right now I can’t go into the details. The less you know, the safer you’ll be. I told you this so you won’t be blindsided if the police come knocking."

Her hand went straight to her heart. "Reagan, you’re not making sense. This is... this is insane. What did you do? Why won’t you tell me?"

I tried to be methodical, to make my voice an even thing she could hold onto. "Shh. Listen to me. Keep your voice down. Don’t talk to anyone about this. If Nancy is planning to testify, she’ll try to put pressure on people. My lawyer said someone at the station was warned. That’s why I wanted you to know: so you can be careful, not alarm anyone."

She stared at me, incredulous. "Are you kidding me? Reagan, this is exactly the kind of thing that gives me a heart attack. You can’t say things like that and then refuse to explain!"

Panic flared in me, fast and ugly. I’d meant to unburden myself, to get this off my chest, but I hadn’t planned for her oxygen-deprived reaction. Regret snapped through me like cold lightning.

"Mom, please," I said, softer, trying to reel her in. "I didn’t want you to panic. I only told you because it’s going to get messy, and I don’t want you to be surprised. For now, we should go back inside. The others will doubt if they realize we’re gone."

"No, Reagan, you will tell me everything now," she insisted, voice hard as iron. Determination and dread mixed on her face; once she rooted herself on a course, there was no moving her.

I felt the old, familiar tightness: the trap of family, of loyalty and expectation. What I’d hoped would be a quiet confession had detonated instead. My chest was raw with regret. Why had I opened my mouth? Why had I thought a whisper would stay small?

I had wanted relief. Now I only wanted the night to swallow us whole and give me back the control I’d just surrendered.

I had no choice but to tell her everything. The words spilled out like a storm I’d been holding back for too long—ugly, sharp, dangerous truths I could no longer carry alone.

When I finished, my mother just stared at me, her lips trembling, eyes wide with terror. I could see her world collapsing right there, piece by piece.

"Please, Mom," I said, voice breaking as I reached for her shoulders. "Swear to me you won’t do anything reckless. I’m begging you. I’m not your only son—think of Liam. Think of what happens to him if you act without thinking. How do you think he’ll handle it if you destroy yourself over something I can still fix?"

Her reaction wasn’t what I expected. Her face twisted with anguish, and her hands shook as she grabbed my arm. "Reagan, the only thing you need to do now is get away from here. Forget about me and Liam—we’ll be fine. Forget Sarah, too. Just go!" she cried, her voice cracking with desperation.

"Start over somewhere far away, where no one knows your name. I’ll take care of everything here. I’ll send you money, I’ll cover your tracks, I’ll do whatever it takes, just please, son, don’t do this to me! I can’t—" Her voice shattered. "I can’t lose you..."

Her knees buckled, and I lunged forward, catching her before she hit the ground. Her sobs tore through the night, echoing faintly against the trees around us. Somewhere in the distance, I could still hear the faint shouts of the search party, but here, in this small corner of chaos, time seemed to stop.

"Mom," I whispered harshly, shaking her gently. "Get a hold of yourself. You’re stronger than this. No more hiding, no more running. Please, just for once, let me handle it."

Her tears soaked through my shirt, and my own chest felt like it was caving in. "I don’t need your money or your connections. I need you to trust me. Trust that I can face this, that I can fix what I broke. Please," I said, gripping her hands tightly, my voice trembling but firm. "Let me be the man you raised me to be. Don’t treat me like that scared, defenseless boy anymore."

She didn’t respond, just kept crying, her sobs breaking into smaller, softer whimpers until she had nothing left to give. I held her, waiting in silence, letting her pain burn itself out. The night around us was cold and still, but my heart was racing, pounding with the dread of what came next.

Because deep down, I knew this was only the beginning.

When her breathing finally steadied, I brushed the tears from her cheeks and forced her to look at me. Her eyes were red, but behind them was a glimmer of the woman who once terrified half the city with her willpower.

"Mom," I said quietly, "you’ve fought battles far worse than this. You survived, Dad. You survived this family’s chaos. You can survive this, too, but only if you let me go through with it."

She cupped my face, her fingers trembling. "You’re my son," she whispered. "My precious boy."

"I know," I said, pulling her into one last hug. "That’s why I have to do this."