Margaret didn’t say anything. Just pulled a velvet box from her clutch and handed it to me with that soft, patronizing smile that never quite touched her eyes. I opened it slowly, standing near the glass railing, the dark waves of the river shimmering below.
Inside was a silver hairpin. Delicate. Etched. Familiar. My mother’s. Not just any pin—the pin. Slightly burned. The one with our family crest, with a hidden blade in the stem. She wore it the day she died. The same day Margaret burned her alive.
I couldn’t speak and my fingers curled around the box.
“Where... Where did you get this?”
Margaret blinked, playing her part. “Harmony… I found it in a tiny estate sale on the East End. I thought it was pretty. I didn’t know it meant something to you.”
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” she said, eyes glassy now. “I thought… I just wanted to give you something special. It's your anniversary. I wanted to be happy for you.”
I stepped forward. “You knew exactly what this was. You knew.”
Margaret slowly backed up. Her voice trembled, just loud enough for the guests and crew to hear. “Why do you hate me so much, Harmony? I’ve done everything to stay out of your way. I—I try to be kind. I smile, I stay quiet. I gave you that. And still…”
She kept walking backward, step by step, toward the edge of the deck. Tears began to fall. Right on cue.
“I just wanted to be happy for you. For both of you…”
Another step back.
“Margaret,” Hakeem warned. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry I survived,” she cried. “I’m sorry I came back. Maybe I should’ve stayed dead.”
Then—she took one last step. And let herself fall. Her body disappeared beneath the black water with a splash that silenced everything.
Gasps cut through the night like glass. Guests froze. Forks clinked against plates. A violinist stopped mid-bow.
“She jumped…”
“Oh my god…”
“What did Harmony do to her?”
“I heard she’s been tormenting that poor woman for months…”
“She’s unstable. Always was.”
“Margaret!” Hakeem’s voice cracked, ragged and raw. He didn’t even look at me. He bolted forward and jumped without hesitation, crashing into the waves after her like the world would end if she didn’t resurface.
The staff scrambled. Radios went off. Spotlights swung out from the yacht’s frame to scan the water. I didn’t move. I stood where I was, alone at the railing, fingers still clenched around the velvet box.