Hours later, as planned, Coralina and Patricia entered the bedrooms of the twins, carrying a tray with two cups of hot tea and the best of their fake smiles.
“Drink, my children, that they may sleep rich and deep,” Patricia purred, caressing their hair hypocrisy.
The twins, excellent actors for survival, drank unrequited. The effect of overdosing the strong painkiller did not wait. Within minutes, heaviness invaded their small bodies. They collapsed on the sheets, the breath became so shallow and the pulse so outrageously slow that, in anyone’s eyes, they looked like two lifeless bodies.
Marcos entered the bedroom a while later to give them the traditional kiss of good night. Seeing them pale, icy, and motionless, the world came upon him in an instant.
“Cay! Cael! Wake up! For God’s sake, children, wake up!” he shouted, shaking them with heartbreaking despair.
Patricia and Coralina rushed in, riding a perfect theater of screaming, tears and false laments. But, in the midst of confusion and excellent performance, arrogance took their toll. As he approached to slap Marcos’ back, Coralina slipped from her robe the jar she swore contained in the poison.
Mark, lying on the ground crying seas on the bodies of his children, saw the glass boat roll until he stopped against his knees. Slowly, he took it between his trembling hands.
“What is this?” he asked, with his voice broken by pain, but with a flash of strangeness and blind fury being born in his pupils.
The silence was deafening. Coralina paled suddenly, feeling her blood freezing.
“Marcos, my love… that’s nothing… for sure it was a failure of his little hearts. The twins have strong connections, their destiny was to be together…” Patricia babbled, trying to remove the bottle.
“Don’t touch me!” Marcos roared, rising like a wounded lion. My children were completely healthy until a few weeks ago. And right now I find this lying at the foot of his bed. I’m gonna call the police! I want a full investigation and an autopsy right now!
Before women could invent any ruse to stop him, the trusted coroner, Dr. Federico, and the patrols arrived at the residence. The bodies were lifted and immediately taken to the morgue in chain of custody, taking the seized bottle with them.
And so, the circle closed in the cold amphitheatre, where death tried to reign, but was monumentally mocked.
Back in the mansion, the atmosphere was unbreathable. Patricia walked like a caged beast, almost ripping her hair, bathed in cold sweat.
