My Stepmom Sent Me to a Strict Tutor—I Didn’t Know They Were Planning My Murder
Part 1
At my tutor’s house, Heather looked at me across the dining table.
She didn’t have her usual polite smile.
Instead, she tapped her manicured nails on the polished wood.
“Get one question wrong, and you’re staying at my house tonight.”
My eyes widened in shock.
I thought she had to be joking.
I waited for a punchline that never came.
She pulled out a stack of index cards.
A slow, unnerving grin stretched across her face.
“Let’s begin.”
The air in the room felt too heavy.
I shifted in my wooden chair.
“Who was the twenty-third president of the United States?” she asked.
History was my worst subject.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“Abraham Lincoln?” I guessed.
She shook her head slowly.
“Wrong.”
She flipped the card.
“I’ll give you two more tries.”
My heart started beating a little faster.
“Next,” she said sharply.
“What’s the square root of 1,764?”
I had an F in math.
She knew how bad I was at numbers.
I swallowed hard, tasting panic.
“Forty?”
Her cold eyes locked onto mine.
“Wrong. It’s forty-two.”
This setup felt rigged.
She was actively trying to make me fail.
“Next,” she said smoothly.
“How many bones are in the human ear?”
I let out a frustrated breath.
“What? It has no bones.”
She shook her head again, that terrible grin returning.
“No.”
She placed the stack of cards face down on the table.
“One more chance.”
She leaned forward until she was uncomfortably close.
“Tell me your birth mother’s middle name.”
My heart stopped.
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
She knew my mom abandoned me when I was a baby.
My dad had told Brenda, my stepmom, everything about our past.
How would I possibly know the answer to that?
“That’s not fair,” I shot back.
She just stared at me.
“Looks like you’re staying here tonight.”
My chair scraped loudly against the floorboards.
Desperation clawed at my throat as I practically begged to leave.
“Please, I’ve been here for hours already.”
My fingers scrambled to grab the worn straps of my backpack.
“Can I just go home?”
Not a single word escaped her painted lips in response.
Her unblinking stare felt like a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders.
Rising to my feet, I prepared to walk out the front door.
She slammed her open palm violently on the table.
“Sit down! We’re not done.”
I dropped back into the chair automatically.
Every instinct in my body screamed that something was deeply wrong.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the heavy front door.
The brass deadbolt was turned all the way to the right.
It was locked from the inside.
“Um, why is the door locked?” I asked.
She completely ignored my question.
She casually pulled her phone out of her pocket.
I watched her thumbs fly rapidly across the bright screen.
She sent a text to someone.
She set the phone down and looked right through me.
“They’re on their way. He’s ready.”
Absolute panic flared in my chest.
“Who’s on their way? Who are you texting?”
She just maintained that dead, empty stare.
A few agonizing minutes later, the doorbell echoed through the silent house.
She got up slowly, moving with bizarre grace.
She walked to the entryway and pulled the door open.
When I saw who stepped inside the house, my stomach dropped out.
It was Brenda.
My stepmom.
A massive wave of relief washed over me for exactly one second.
“Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked eagerly.
I thought she had come to rescue me.
But Brenda didn’t even look in my direction.
She walked straight past me like I was invisible.
She went right up to the tutor.
They wrapped their arms around each other in the entryway.
Brenda pulled back slightly and looked at Heather’s face.
“Nice work, babe.”
My brain completely short-circuited at the word.
“Babe?” I stammered.
I looked back and forth between the two women.
“What is going on? Why did she call you babe?”
Heather turned her head slowly to face me.
Her fake smile was completely gone.
Her expression was completely dead.
“You really don’t recognize me, do you?”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Recognize you?” I asked, shaking uncontrollably.
“You’re my math tutor.”
She let out a harsh, humorless laugh.
“I’m your mother.”
All the oxygen rushed out of my lungs in an instant.
I couldn’t process the impossible words hitting my ears.
“What? No.”
I shook my head vigorously, backing away.
“My mom left when I was a tiny baby.”
Heather tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, now you do.”
I couldn’t breathe properly.
The walls of the hallway felt like they were rapidly closing in.
I jumped up from the chair, knocking it backward.
I bolted straight for the front door, desperate for the outside air.
I didn’t even make it three steps before I was stopped.
Brenda lunged forward with terrifying speed.
She grabbed me by the arm with a vicious grip.
Her fingers dug in so tight I thought my bone would snap.
“Let go of me!” I screamed.
I thrashed my entire body weight against her hold.
She wouldn’t budge an inch.
I tried to scream for help again.
My voice cracked into a pathetic wheeze.
“Why are you doing this?”
Hot tears of pure terror stung the corners of my eyes.
“What do you want from me?”
Brenda yanked me roughly closer by my shirt collar.
She leaned in until her breath was hot against my ear.
“Your dad asked the exact same thing right before we killed him.”
I completely froze, every muscle locking up.
My blood ran absolute ice cold.
“What?”
A sick, triumphant smirk spread across Brenda’s face.
“Your daddy left everything to you in his will. But if you’re gone, it all goes to her, and she’s going to share it with me.”
