Right then, Charles stepped up in front of her, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a cold, menacing smirk that looked like it belonged to a bloodthirsty rakshasa.
"Go on, slit your throat and get it over with! Cordelia, my mother was driven to her death by you, a home-wrecking mistress who snuck her way into my family. You deserve to go down to hell and keep her company!"
Cordelia was so terrified she sobbed uncontrollably, her hand flying open to drop the broken glass shard she'd been clutching. She let the police lead her away without a fight.
Once the whole ugly mess was over, Charles finally let out a long, relieved breath, then turned to me to thank me.
Two years before this, he'd staggered onto this small island, badly injured and suffering from amnesia, with zero recollection
