The First Thread
1399 Words
Selena hated how quickly the home that had once been filled with love and laughter now felt like a trap she’d willingly walked back into.
Two days had passed since the staged welcome.
Two days of polite meals, Jacob’s forced conversations about “rebuilding trust,” and Claudia’s eyes on her, watching like she was waiting for Selena to slip.
Carlos hadn’t shown up once. And honestly she could care less.
---
That morning, things felt normal again—until the argument started in the breakfast room.
Selena was halfway through her caramel tea when Carlos walked in, dressed like he’d just come from a club at 3 AM. He stopped when he saw her, then smiled slow and ugly.
“Well. Look who crawled back.”
Selena didn’t look up. “Good morning to you too.”
Claudia swept in a second later, all silk and perfume, placing a hand on Carlos’s shoulder like she owned him.
“Carlos, darling, don’t antagonize her. She’s family.”
“Family,” Carlos snapped, pulling out a chair and sitting across from Selena.
Selena shifted to the side without looking up, her fingers tapping her lap to calm herself down.
“Right. The family that leaves home and only comes back whenever she pleases. And now, she has Dad’s attention back.”
Selena set her mug down. “I’m not here for his attention.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said.
“You’re wearing your mother’s dress again. You know Dad keeps that thing locked up for a reason.”
Claudia’s smile didn’t change. “Carlos.”
“What?” He shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s weird.”
Selena stood. “You want weird? Let’s talk about the night my mother died. Let’s talk about why your mother was never around after that. Did you ever think about that?”
The room went cold.
Claudia’s expression sharpened. “That’s enough.”
Carlos leaned back, amused.
“Oh, she wants to play that game? Fine. Ask Dad why Peter Dale’s father ended up in prison. Ask him why your mom’s death was ruled an accident so fast.”
Selena’s hands clenched under the table. Her voice low from realization.
“I will.”
“Good,” Carlos said. “Do it before he gets tired of you again.”
Claudia stepped between them, voice smooth and dangerous.
“Dinner with the Martinezes is tonight. Be ready at seven. Both of you. We’re presenting a united front But if you choose not to come too, that’s okay by us.”
Selena didn’t answer. She walked out without looking back.
Carlos stormed out too.
---
Evening
At 6:45 PM, Jacob was in his study, adjusting his cufflinks while Claudia fussed over his tie.
“Let’s not be late,” Claudia said, checking herself in the mirror. “The Martinezes are important.”
Jacob smiled at her in the glass. “With you on my arm, I’m never late.”
They walked out ten minutes later, the driver pulling the car out silently.
Selena waited exactly five minutes after the gate closed. Then she ran into Jacob’s office. This was the only time she had.
The room smelled like leather and old paper. Every drawer was locked, every cabinet sealed. But Selena knew her mother’s old key—Sarai’s key—still fit the desk drawer on the left.
She’d kept it since she was sixteen.
Inside was nothing useful. Old contracts, bank statements, photos of Selena as a child that made her throat ache.
She moved to the bookshelf, pressing her palm against the wood panel her mother once showed her as a joke.
It gave.
Behind it was a small safe.
Selena’s hands shook as she worked the dial. It took twelve minutes, but it opened.
The code was her mother’s birthday all along.
Inside were folders, a burner phone, and a small pill bottle with no label.
She opened the top folder first.
Nothing on Peter Dale. Nothing on the accident. But there was a record. A receipt.
Prescription: Zolapram 5mg. Prescribed by Dr. Elias Morrow, MD. California.
Patient: Sarai Claire Laurent.
Delivery: Weekly, 2015-2016.
Notes: Administer nightly for sleep. Do not exceed dosage. Dissolve in liquid before serving.
Selena’s breath caught. Tears formed in her eyes.
“No,” she exclaimed softly.
Then she slipped her phone out and typed the name of the drug into ChatGPT.
Zolapram is a drowsy medication. Sedative. Strong dosages are likely to cause heart attacks.
This was something you gave someone every night without a foul reason. And Dr. Elias Morrow… that was Jacob’s cousin. The one who never came to funerals.
She pulled out her phone and started recording video of the document, her hands steady despite the shaking in her chest.
Then she heard the door.
Footsteps.
Selena killed the light, slid under the desk, and held her breath.
Carlos walked in, flashlight in hand, moving like he’d done this before. He went straight for the safe, didn’t even notice the panel was slightly ajar.
He didn’t see her.
He pulled out a folder, shoved it into his jacket, and left without a word.
Selena waited until the door closed, then bolted.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought she’d throw up.
She didn’t stop running until she was back in her old room, door locked, phone still recording.
She hadn’t found proof about Peter Farmington yet, but what she found was far more heartbreaking to her.
This was proof that Jacob had been drugging Sarai. Every night. For a year. Until she died. It wasn’t certain—she needed more—but this was a good start.
She called Dale.
He answered on the second ring.
“Selena? Are you okay?”
Her voice broke. She cried, bitterly.
“Dale. He was giving her something. Every night. A sedative. From his cousin, a doctor in California.”
Dale was quiet for a long moment.
“Send me everything. Now.”
When she hung up, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She wasn’t done. Not even close. But for the first time, she had a thread.
And in that moment, her worst nightmare was already coming to plan.
---
Meanwhile, at Dale’s
He didn’t sleep that night.
While Selena was in Jacob’s office, he was in his own study, digging through old files he’d avoided for years. Laurent Enterprises.
He went on to search for Claudia and Carlos after his call with Selena, and what he found made his stomach turn.
Claudia had opened three shell companies in the six months after Sarai died. All of them were tied to Laurent Enterprises’ offshore accounts.
Carlos had been flagged twice for fraud at his university. Both times, the charges disappeared. Jacob had made it disappear.
And there was a memo. From 2016.
Re: Peter Dale case. Proceed as discussed. Keep Selena out of it.
Dale stared at the screen until his eyes burned.
He picked up his phone.
“Dean,” he said when it connected. “I need you to run a background on Claudia and Carlos Rodrigo. Everything. No gaps.”
Dean didn’t ask why.
“On it, sir.”
Dale ended the call and looked at Selena’s videos one more time.
Jacob hadn’t just taken his father down.
He’d been killing Selena’s mother slowly, in her sleep, to take everything from her as well. He wanted to merge the enterprises and make it his.
His greed was immeasurable.
---
That night, Selena lay awake, the pill bottle on her nightstand.
She didn’t know if it was empty because Jacob stopped using it, or because he’d moved it somewhere else.
She needed more.
Tomorrow she’d go through the burner phone.
She was drifting off when she heard it—footsteps outside her door. Slow. Deliberate.
She sat up, heart hammering, and ran for the bottle. She tossed it into her side drawer before jumping onto her bed.
The doorknob turned.
Claudia entered. Selena had forgotten to lock her door.
“Having trouble sleeping, Selena? Maybe you need something for that.”
Silence.
Claudia stared, her gaze ice.
“I see everything that happens in this house on my phone. Don’t you dare cross me. Do it again and you won’t like me. Goodnight, my love.”
The door slammed shut behind her.
Selena exhaled.
“Shit... there are cameras?!”
- Writer
