Convicted (Consequences)

of his wife’s name and each step toward her, the crimson hue of the room darkened.
    Catherine continued, “Sophia doesn’t need money, you saw to that, but with her husband gone, she’ll be alone—now she’ll need me .” Seemingly unaware of Tony’s rage, Catherine added, “Besides, her husband was a Burke .”
    “Don’t you see how out of hand this has become?”
    “Really”—Catherine explained—“Mrs. Simmons should consider it a gift.”
    Tony stared in disbelief. “Sick! You’re not only crazy—you’re sick!”
    “Mr. Rawlings, you’re dead wrong.” Smirking, she added, “I’ve waited a long time to say that.” Before he could respond, she continued, “You see, in your absence, your friend has been well—forgetful”—Catherine stepped closer—“You probably don’t remember how your grandmother suffered”—she laughed—“Of course, everyone says that. They say it’s the patient that suffers, but in reality, it isn’t. Oh, don’t get me wrong Sharron was a sweet, loving woman; however, the one who really suffered was Nathaniel. Every day, he sat with her, talked to her, held her, even when she couldn’t respond. It was tragic.” Catherine shook her head, lost in her own thoughts. “No one should ever have to deal with that. So you see, with Brent heading that direction, because forgetfulness is how it starts—Courtney has received the gift of not having to witness her husband suffer.”
    Tony listened in disbelief to Catherine justifying her actions. Had Brent been forgetful? Or was he just walking an invisible tight rope when with Catherine, keeping his knowledge hidden? Tony wanted her to stop. He wanted to release the crimson that wouldn’t go away. Without thinking, Tony slapped her cheek. “Shut up! There’s no justification for what you’ve done.”
    The action was supposed to help him; however, instead of making him feel better, memories of slapping Claire came rushing back. The crimson continued to infiltrate. Turning toward the desk, he saw the vase of flowers. In one swift movement, he hurled it against the wall. Shards of crystal, water, and flowers littered the carpet as the vase shattered.
    “You will never be the man your grandfather was!” Catherine screamed. “He never would’ve struck someone he loved.”
    Tony turned maliciously, his eyes meeting hers. “If you’re referring to me—at this moment—neither did I! And as for my grandfather—he did. I saw him!”
    “You’re lying.”
    Tony’s face burned as he remembered the scene. “I watched from the doorway”—he pointed toward the doors—“He slapped my father.”
    Catherine shrugged. “ He probably deserved it.”
    “So do you! You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies! Brent had a wife and kids!”
    “I loved your grandfather, but even I realized that I couldn’t watch him take the same path as Sharron.”
    Tony tried to process her words. Same path ?
    “With each visit to the prison, he became more and more forgetful. He’d ask me the same questions over and over. Some days, he’d talk about someone, and then tell me the same story again. Mostly, he’d talk about the past.”
    Tony seized her shoulders. “My grandfather had a vitamin deficiency. That, combined with the anti-depressants the prison prescribed can create dementia-like side effects. I found documentation that the prison contacted my father about it. My father refused to allow them to take him off the medication. I assumed it was to help his case—giving him validation to void your marriage.”
    Catherine’s eyes blazed. “No! He was losing it. I was there—not you. He trusted me—I had to take care of him.”
    “Take care of him?”
    “It was very simple. My mother believed in herbal cures. When I was a teenager, she thought she could cure my uncle’s drug use with herbs and plant extracts. She taught me about plants—those that heal—and those that kill. It’s actually very ingenious. The natural extracts don’t register on normal toxicology screens. Oh, it can be found, but only with specific tests.”
    Tony collapsed onto the leather sofa and studied the woman he’d known most of his life. He could scarcely form the words to his question, “You poisoned my grandfather?”
    Catherine stood taller and shook her head. “Don’t you dare make it sound bad! I did—what I did—to save him, from himself. You know, like how you planned to have Claire take the insanity plea—to save her