The Bad Daughter

"THIS IS NOT TRUE!!!" Maya cried her eyes wide opened

"I liked your mother Maya!!!" Vivian said bitterly, she couldn't keep herself strong anymore, nor she had same hate against Maya now, knowing who she was.

"You yourself know Maya that this is true!!!"

"It didn't look like as if your father did it for the 1st time!!!"

"I remember I always used to see your mother from my school window... she was my ideal for an ideal life... but as I say my muse to living die before my eyes I couldn't resist to protect her..."

"It was your mother who had called the police and as I heard the sirens I wanted to hand myself over to the police but your mother", at this Vivian broke down... a few sobs and she continued...

"But your mother told me ... "

"Get away run away you know nothing"

"Please live for my sake !!!"

"And then she took the brick and hit him again and then fell on his chest..."

"I still her remember her eyes in the dark, telling me to leave..."

"Maya I am living on the borrowed life from your mother !!! that's why I lived to the best ... I thought I was cunning... and that everyone I hated was getting out of my life...

When I heard that Emily and her sister were killed, though I was disturbed I was happy !!! same with Mark when he died I was happy .... it felt as if I was the one who was causing the killings... I could imagine the whole scenario of their deaths and find solace in their misery and broken last breaths!!!

It was death of my brother and max and his daughter who brought my back to my senses that I was not the murderer!!!"

Maya had no words now she was whimpering like a kid... it was unbearable for her…her own life and career revolving around getting revenge only to find out that she remembered it all wrong...and that she was wrong all along…

The rooftop fell silent except for the sound of Maya's and Vivian's sob.

…..

When Max and Sarah burst onto the rooftop moments later, they found two broken women—one sobbing uncontrollably, the other staring vacantly at the blood-soaked ground.

They were both captured and brought to trial.

Maya confessed everything, her crimes unraveling in front of the whole world. The phosphine perfumes were traced to her, and she was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Vivian, though haunted by her past, was spared severe punishment due to mitigating circumstances. For the case of Laura's brother, the statute of limitations had expired it was not pursued and for Maya's parents case her mother had been deemed the murderer according to the clear evidence that year so it was not reopened. In short Vivian was sentenced to a year in prison with community service for kidnapping a fugitive.

Sarah sat in her office, the contents of the letter confiscated from Vivian spread out before her. The evidence was conclusive. Every piece had fallen into place, but as she stared at the words, her hands trembled. It wasn't just the revelation of Maya's guilt or Vivian's troubled past that weighed on her—it was her own culpability.

The memory of her husband, John, felt like a ghost in the room, his laughter a faint echo in her ears. For twenty years, she had buried the truth behind a wall of pride and justice. She had convinced herself that the law was a shield, but now, it felt more like a weapon she had wielded carelessly, even against those she loved most.

After a sleepless night, she typed out her resignation letter. Every keystroke felt like a confession, the weight of two decades pouring into her words.

Next morning she stood before the committee, her resignation letter clutched in her hands. The room filled with the sharp eyes of her superiors. One of them leaned forward, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.

"Sarah, you've just cracked one of the biggest cases in decades. Do you realize the magnitude of your accomplishment? Your promotion is guaranteed. Why throw it all away?"

She met their eyes, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "Because I don't deserve it."

Murmurs rippled through the room, but she continued, her tone resolute.

"I became an officer to serve justice, to protect the innocent. But in my own home, I failed to see the truth. I failed my husband. My prejudice, my unwillingness to listen, cost him his life. I can't stand here, wearing this badge, knowing what it truly represents—for me, it's a reminder of my failure."

Her words left the room in silence. One of the committee members finally spoke, his voice softening. "Sarah, everyone makes mistakes. You can use this experience to guide others, to ensure that no one else makes the same errors."

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes.

"No. My mistakes are not lessons for others, I failed my husband and I failed the system when I couldn't even found that my own underling was the murderer—No… they are a burden I will carry for the rest of my life. This position deserves someone with a clear conscience, someone who hasn't let their personal failures taint the justice they stand for."

The committee reluctantly accepted her resignation, their disappointment palpable, but Sarah felt a strange sense of relief as she signed her name for the last time as Detective Sarah Blake.

Packing up her belongings was a surreal experience. Each item she placed in her box held a memory: case files, framed commendations, and a photo of her and John from the early days of their marriage. She lingered on that photo, tracing his face with her finger.

The moment she stepped outside, the chill of the winter air hit her. She turned back to look at the station, her gaze fixed on the doorway where she had first met John. They had bumped into each other, quite literally, as young rookies. His laugh had been infectious, and her heart had fluttered in a way she had never felt.

She chuckled softly at the memory, the bitter sweetness of it tightening her chest. She turned away, as she took a step forward, her legs buckled. The weight of everything—her grief—finally overcame her. She collapsed.

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