I returned home from military service, hoping to see my wife's smile. Instead, I found a coffin in the middle of the living room. ""She d:ied in childbirth..."" my mother said in a cold voice that sent shivers down my spine. I approached, trembling, to see her one last time... and then I realized. My wife's stiff hand was still clutching something. And my mother turned pale when I tried to pry her fingers apart.

Caleb didn't drop the gun. Panic broke his mind.

With an animalistic roar, he swung the barrel toward my face and pulled the trigger.

CLICK.

The firing pin came down on an empty chamber—I had already identified the cylinder alignment when he drew the weapon; he had forgotten to load the first chamber after keeping it on an empty safety notch.

Before he could pull it a second time, I closed the distance.

I didn't draw my pistol. I swept my right arm out, catching his wrist in a violent C-clamp grip, twisting it outward until the bones in his forearm popped like dry twigs. The nickel-plated revolver clattered onto the hardwood floor.

Caleb screamed in agony, but I didn't stop. I slammed my knee into his midsection, knocking the air from his lungs, and swept his leg out from under him.

He hit the floor face-first right beside Emily's coffin.

In one continuous, fluid motion, I pulled a high-tensile zip-cuff from my belt, pinned his head to the floor with my boot, and bound his wrists behind his back so tightly his fingers immediately turned purple.

"Get off me! Get off me!" Caleb sobbed, his nose bleeding onto the rug. "Mother made me do it! She gave her the pills! She held the pillow! I just held her arms! It was Mother!"

Mother stood frozen near the hallway, her jaw slacking as she listened to her favorite son sell her out in three seconds flat.

"You sniveling little coward," Mother whispered, her voice filled with absolute disgust.

The front door burst open with a violent crash.

"CLEAR LEFT! CLEAR RIGHT!"

Tactical officers in black gear flooded the foyer, laser sights cutting red lines through the dim light. Major Sarah Chen stepped through the door, her service weapon drawn, flanked by four heavily armed CID agents.

"Warrant Officer Brooks!" Major Chen shouted, sweeping the room before lowering her weapon when she saw me standing calmly over Caleb. "Status!"

"Scene secure, Major," I said, stepping back from Caleb and placing my hand gently over Leo’s head. "Subjects Caleb Brooks and Dr. Richard Harrison are restrained. Primary suspect Margaret Brooks is unsecured in the corner."

Two state troopers rushed forward, slamming Dr. Harrison against the wall and clicking steel handcuffs around his wrists. Two more grabbed Mother, pulling her hands behind her back despite her wild, clawing resistance.

"Take your filthy hands off me!" Mother screamed, struggling against the troopers as she was dragged toward the door. "I am a respectable woman! I am his mother! You can't do this to me!"

As she was pulled past me, she stopped, her wild, bloodshot eyes locking onto mine.

"You ruined this family, Daniel!" she spat, spray flying from her lips. "You should have died in that war!"