Chapter 12 - The Cellblock’s Smiling Viper
The visitor partition at Bedford Hills Maximum Security Facility smelled of industrial bleach, sour sweat, and the absolute absence of hope.
Evelyn sat on the cold plastic chair, her leather jacket zipped to her chin, watching the heavy steel door slide open. Celeste walked in, flanked by two armed correctional officers. The orange jumpsuit hung loosely from her once-sculpted shoulders, her manicured nails clipped down to raw cuticles, her hair stripped of its salon sheen.
Yet, when Celeste’s dark eyes locked onto Evelyn, the corners of her cracked lips curved into that same serpentine, aristocratic smile that had once terrorized the Bennett household.
"Look at you, little orphan," Celeste purred through the scratched acrylic glass, picking up the heavy black receiver. "Come to see the beast in her cage? Or did Daddy send his attack dog because he’s too terrified to face me?"
Evelyn lifted the receiver. Her hand was steady. She leaned forward until her forehead nearly touched the glass. "Zurich, Celeste. The lilac wax. The vial."
Celeste’s smirk didn't vanish—it widened, showing teeth stained with cheap prison coffee. A soft, breathless laugh rattled in her chest.
"So the package arrived," Celeste whispered, her voice buzzing through the earpiece. "I wondered how long Sarah’s dead-drop network would take to trigger after my conviction. Did you honestly think I was the mastermind, Evelyn? Did you truly believe a socialite like me dreamed up synthetic, undetectable neurotoxins in between charity galas?"
"Who hired you?" Evelyn’s voice was ice, cold and lethal. "Vivian confessed to helping you slip the thallium into my mother's tea, but she swore the deliveries came from an offshore courier. Who paid you to kill my mother, Celeste?"
Celeste tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with manic amusement. "Your mother wasn't just an artist, Evie. Your mother was the chief geneticist for Vance-BioTech before she walked away with their entire synthetic enzyme database. She stole fifty billion dollars worth of cellular regeneration research and hid it where no corporate raid could touch it."
Celeste leaned in so close her breath fogged the acrylic divider.
"She didn't just give birth to Lily, darling. She synthesized the biological key directly into Lily’s unique genomic sequence. That little baby isn't just your sister—she’s the only living cure for Julian Vance’s terminal degenerative disease."
Evelyn’s blood turned to liquid nitrogen. "Julian Vance died four years ago in an airplane crash."
"Did he?" Celeste laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that caused the guard behind her to shift his grip on his baton. "Check the tail number on the private jet idling right now at Westchester County Airport. Vance doesn't stay dead, Evelyn. And now that I failed to extract the child quietly through legal custody... he isn't going to use poison anymore. He’s sending an extraction team."
Celeste’s eyes flared with pure malice. "Run home, little girl. Check the nursery window."
May you like
Evelyn slammed the receiver onto the hook, bolted from the booth, and sprinted through the reinforced steel security checkpoints toward the blinding light of the parking lot.
***
