“But Valeria dragged her feet,” Bianca continues. “She didn’t trust them. She wanted to wait. I told Wald, and he said he’d handle it.”
Andrea’s hand settles lightly on my shoulder.
“He hired someone. He said it was only meant to scare her… pressure her into giving in and keeping quiet.”
For the first time, her voice wavers slightly.
“I was only supposed to isolate her and open the door for Wald’s man. Gaspard was standing guard.”
She stops.
“But when the man came in with the syringe… I understood.”
Her breathing turns uneven.
“I realized what they had really planned.”
Silence.
“It was too late. I froze. I was scared.”
My fingers curl so tightly my knuckles burn.
For two years, I believed I had lost my wife to an accident.
The truth was far worse.
It wasn’t an accident.
It was her.
“Valeria fought back. The hitman threw her violently backward, and her head struck the corner of the counter. She collapsed instantly.”
I almost stop breathing.
“Gaspard… Gaspard came in right after. He checked her pulse. He said she was dead. That we had to cover our tracks. The hitman opened a storage cabinet and grabbed a container of accelerant. He splashed it across the counters, the walls… then ordered us to leave. Two minutes later, the fire alarm went off.”
A rage so violent tears through me I can barely breathe.
I remember that day.
While I was frantically searching for Valeria in the panicked crowd, Bianca told me she’d seen her heading in another direction. She deliberately sent me the wrong way. She stopped me from reaching my wife.
I want to smash through that glass and force every word back down her throat.
Every excuse.
“I didn’t know…”
Her voice breaks. As though she’s the victim.
“You participated in the crime and stood by while it happened. Legally, that makes you an accomplice to attempted murder, Ms. Fabre.”
His voice cracks like a whip, and Bianca goes pale.
For the first time, she understands that lying won’t save her anymore.
“And what was your role afterward?” Sanders asks.