And even more to the man brought into the room in shackles and pushed down into the chair across the table from her. A handcuff closed tightly around the leg of the table secured the chains linking his feet and hands, so he couldn't move far from the chair.
He looked at her with an unsettling blend of emotion in his eyes. There was anger and hurt there, but against the backdrop of rage was a veil of softness and longing, like light glowing behind the clouds in a storm.
They still looked just like hers.
“You came,” Jonah said.
The tone in his voice made Emma's spine tighten, but she showed no emotion.
"What did you do?" she asked.
The sick smile melted from Jonah's face. He tilted his head to the side, looking at her like he was bewildered by the question.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"To Greg. What did you do to him?"
"Emma," he started, the words coming out like a breath. "I thought we went over all this during my interrogation. And I believe you have a written statement from him describing his time with me."
He spoke about it with the same weight as he would a leisurely visit, and Emma had to fight to maintain control of her reaction.
“You know what I'm talking about,” she said. “Three days ago. What did you do?”
“I don't understand. I was here three days ago. You know that,” Jonah answered. “I don't know about anything that happened outside of these walls. You'll have to ask Greg if you think something happened.”
Her hands clamped down so hard on the edge of the table; it felt like her knuckles might break. Her teeth ground down into each other until her jaw ached.
“Greg is dead,” she growled.
His eyes widened slightly, and he sat back in his chair.
“Oh,” he said. “I didn't know.”
“Don't play that game,” Emma warned. “I know you had something to do with it.”
“I didn't,” Jonah said. “I didn't even know about his death. How did it happen?”
“You tell me,” she told him.
“Emma, I'm telling you the truth. Whatever might have happened to Greg wasn't me. I had nothing to do with it.”
“You're trying to tell me you did everything you could to kill him before dumping him in my yard, you went to the hospital to lurk over him, but I'm supposed to believe that he was murdered within a few hours of finally being discharged from the hospital and you didn't have anything to do with it?”
“It's the truth. I have no reason to lie to you,” he insisted.
Emma scoffed.
“Because that's so out of your character? It's so far out of the scope of reality that you would lie about killing a man you already lied to in order to get him to trust you, and then nearly killed him? I'm supposed to believe a man who faked his death twenty years ago after raping a woman and attempting to kidnap her child?” Emma asked.
His hands slammed down onto the table in front of him, and for an instant, his eyes flashed red.
"I didn't rape her. Mariya loved me. We were supposed to be together."
Emma’s eyes drilled into him, not betraying any emotion. Waiting for him to admit to it in his angered state.
But just as quickly as the rage took over him, it disappeared, and Jonah sat back again. "I am not lying to you, Emma. I have been forthcoming and open since my arrest. You already know about Levi and Thomas. The information Greg gave you was enough to reveal several other deaths, and Fisher's actions have links to me as well. I'm going down for all of those. There's nothing to save at this point. I have no leverage. Given the irrefutable proof of the things I did, there’s no prosecutor in the world who would give me a deal to reduce my sentence merely to get details of one more murder. And one more murder tacked onto me isn't going to complicate my life any further."
"But it would leave people questioning, which you love," Emma said.
A smile, more sinister than the one before it, slid onto his lips as he leaned forward toward her.
"Think of everything I've done, Emma," he said, his voice almost a hissing whisper. "No one has linked my actions to me before. Not because I hid them, but because no one has been smart enough to figure it out. I take pride in what I do. Nurturing chaos will save the world and give all who live in it purpose for existence."
He sat back. "I won't say I'm not glad Greg is dead. But he was such a waste. Things could have been so good."
Emma got to her feet as the hope rose in his eyes again, and he reached his hands toward her.
"No," she said.
"But they could have been. He could have had so much power. And you. You, Emma. You could have lived a life you could never imagine. I want to give you that life. All of us together, me, you, your brother…"
She held up a hand to stop him.
"Dean is not my brother. He is my cousin. My mother knew what you are and went to the doctor as soon as she realized the depths of your disgusting derangement."
"Please, just listen to me."
"I don't want to hear it."
She stalked out of the room, leaving Jonah locked to the table and staring after her.
Chapter Eleven
Now
At first, I think the plane must have hit a rough patch of air, and the shaking I feel is turbulence. But I'm going side to side rather than up and down, and as I get more awake, I hear Bellamy's voice coming at me.
"Emma, wake up. We're getting ready to land."
I peel the sleep mask back from over my eyes and peer around. Everyone is doing the shifting around that happens right before a plane lowers back to the ground. The passengers who made themselves at home and scattered
