Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Like what?” I ask. As I sift through my memories of Melanie, I realize I missed plenty of red flags, too. The more Callie tells me, the sillier I begin to feel.
“Well, she said that one of the brothers gave her something to drink that made her feel funny, but I happen to know what roofies do to the memory,” Callie continues uncomfortably. “And she had far too many crystal-clear details about what they supposedly did to her. She… she remembered too much.”
“Aren’t there roofies that basically paralyze you?” I ask, pressing for more details.
“She wasn’t paralyzed. See, the thing is… her story varied and changed the more questions I asked. First, she couldn’t move. Then, she couldn’t remember much. But then she had so many details to offer. At one point, she even tried to fight them off. So, I asked a friend of mine from the county court to look into the trial transcripts and… well, I started putting two and two together.”
“Are you telling me that Melanie lied to get that settlement? That she lied to the cops?” I gasp.
Suddenly the whole picture seems a lot less black and white.
“Yes. And the thing is… My sister has done her fair share of drugs when she was younger. Made plenty of mistakes and was never held accountable for any of it because our parents kept bailing her out,” Callie says. “I thought… I thought that once she got into law school, once she started working at that firm… that Melanie had finally grown up. There were other minor incidents over the years involving her, but she always managed to explain those away.”
“And the settlement?”
“Here’s what made me start digging. Melanie was not supposed to break that NDA. She wasn’t supposed to talk about what happened that night with Kellan, Alex, and Oscar. But she most certainly did at the resort. To you, to me, to Bryan. And when I asked her why she risked a lawsuit just to put the triplets back in the limelight, Melanie gave me this… this unhinged look, and she said… because they pushed her away.” Callie shudders and takes a deep breath.
I open my mouth to argue, but Callie cuts me off.
“Then, I was talking to Bryan and he said that the triplets never engage in any illegal activities. He says that sometimes they drink too much, but they’ve never tried any other drug. Oh, God, Makayla… I think we were wrong about them.”
It must be hard to turn your back on a sibling like that. Callie and Melanie are family, but in some extreme cases, blood ties are not an excuse to let someone get away with lies, with cheating, with any sort of deed that hurts other people. No, in a family, we call out poor behavior. We question that which seems unreasonable.
And it’s precisely what Callie did, once she had a moment to cool down after that Swedish mess.
“So, what are you saying, now? What is Bryan’s opinion about all this?” I ask pointedly.
“Knowing what I know about Melanie, that makes me think she’s lying about the drink,” Callie says. “And if she’s lying about the drink, what else is she lying about? I asked myself, and then I went over the details with Bryan. He showed me this. He got it from Kellan, not long after we came back from Sweden…”
Callie digs into her pocket and produces several folded pieces of paper. She hands them over with a grim look in her eyes. Carefully, I unfold and start reading. The more I read, the colder my blood runs.
“Oh, crap, it’s a copy of the settlement,” I whisper.
“Read the accusations. Her statement to the police,” Callie says, sitting with me while I skim through the printed text. “And there’s the Andersons’ statement… And the non-disclosure agreement.”
“My God, Callie…”
“Armed with this, I think your friends were right when they said Melanie was blackmailing them. And I don’t think they’re the only ones being scammed,” Callie replies, stone-faced. “I found this in her desk the last time I visited,” she adds, producing a crumpled bank statement from another pocket. “I confronted her with it, and she said they were ‘consulting fees.’ But that’s her personal bank account, not the firm’s account.”
“May I hold onto this?” I ask, tapping the paper in my lap.
“Of course,” Callie answers. “I’m not sure if I should go to the police, but I definitely wanted to come see you since you’re involved with some of the people she apparently victimized.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I think I owe the Andersons a huge apology…”
“Callie, I’m so sorry,” I say, realizing what a disaster this must be for her as a sister. I can’t imagine not being able to trust my own brother. Having the courage to say she’s sorry and present me with tangible evidence of Melanie’s guilt must be incredibly difficult.