She paused.
“Or you can continue. Let them try one more time. Then no jury will acquit them.”
I should have ended it at Makapoo. I should have let them arrest Jessica and Brandon on those cliffs and finish this nightmare right there with the ocean crashing below and the evidence overwhelming.
But I needed to understand why my own daughter wanted me gone so desperately that she’d tried twice in 24 hours.
The Hawaiian police released Jessica and Brandon with stern warnings, part of the FBI plan to let them incriminate themselves further.
We drove back to the hotel in tense silence. Brandon gripped the steering wheel too tightly. Jessica stared out the window, her reflection ghostly in the glass.
Once we arrived, I called them to my room. They entered nervously, moving like prisoners walking to judgment. Jessica’s eyes were red and swollen from crying.
I stood by the window overlooking the ocean, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. I spoke without turning around.
“You just tried to push me off a 600 ft cliff.”
Jessica’s voice trembled. “Mom, no. It wasn’t like that. You lost your balance.”
I spun to face her, and the movement was sharp enough that she flinched.
“Don’t. Don’t lie anymore. I heard what you said. ‘This is mercy.’ Dad wanted you with him. You tried to end my life.”
The mask cracked. Jessica collapsed onto the sofa, hands shaking violently.
“Mom, we’re desperate. We owe money to very dangerous people.”
I kept my voice deliberately calm, though fury burned in my chest. “How much?”
She shook her head, tears starting fresh. “I—I can’t tell you. If they knew we talked, Mom, you don’t understand. These aren’t normal creditors.”
Brandon stepped forward, his face pale and drawn. “Mrs. Thompson, they send us photos. Photos of what they do to people who don’t pay—graphic, horrifying proof.”
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