All Are Killers Beneath The Heights

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Suspended three hundred feet above the Manhattan pavement, the freezing wind whipped against my face as I scrubbed the high-rise windows. I wiped away a layer of grime, only to freeze.

Through the thick glass, I saw him.

Finn.

My wife Lisas adopted brother, the man who had supposedly died three years ago. He was lounging in a luxurious marble bathtub, completely naked, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Lisa almost shipped me off to Europe three years ago just to please her dear husband," Finn chuckled, his voice muffled but entirely legible through the glass. "Good thing I jumped off that roof. It drove her completely insane. I knew she loved me the most. That little suicide test I planned was worth every drop of blood."

My blood ran cold. The oxygen vanished from my lungs.

He faked his death. He used a single suicide note to nail me to the cross as a murderer.

Lisa, the woman who once loved me to the bone, was so consumed by grief and rage that she personally forced me into this hell. Knowing I had a crippling fear of heights, she made me dangle from skyscrapers day after day, forcing me to endure the exact terror her brother supposedly felt before he fell.

The psychological torture had nearly landed me in an asylum. And to him, it was just a lighthearted test?

Acting purely on instinct, I fumbled for my phone and dialed Lisas number.

The line connected. But the words died in my throat.

Because the person stepping into the frame, handing a warm towel to the man in the tub, was Lisa.

My hands shook violently. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, plummeting into the abyss below. Inside the bathroom, Lisa frowned in confusion, tossing her own phone onto the vanity counter.

"Enough," she snapped. "I don't know where you get these sick ideas. I've lived in agonizing guilt for three years. Even Penn hasn't had a single day of peace, yet here you are, living like a king."

Finn didn't look remorseful in the slightest. He climbed out of the tub, water dripping onto the tiles.

Lisa averted her eyes, quickly tossing a bath sheet around his waist. Her face was tight with displeasure. "Go home early and apologize to Penn. I can only keep you hidden for another month." She paused, turning toward the bedroom. "And even though we're up high, pull the blinds when you bathe."

My heart violently twisted into a bleeding knot. I instinctively shrank back, trying to hide. But at this altitude, any sudden movement sent the suspension harness swinging wildly.

A sudden gust of gale-force wind slammed me face-first into the reinforced glass. The world went black.

I woke up to the sharp stench of antiseptic. A tearing pain throbbed at my temples. The sheer, lingering panic of the fall made me bolt upright in the hospital bed, gasping for air.

"Penn, are you feeling better?" Lisa walked into the room, a designer gift bag in her hand. A fleeting trace of guilt flashed in her elegant eyes. "How could you be so careless up there? If I hadn't coincidentally seen you, you would have lost your life."

She set the bag down. "Since it has come to this, your punishment is over. From now on, you can stay home and take care of the household."

My breath hitched.

Just yesterday, she had looked at me with absolute disgust, calling me a murderer. Today, I was suddenly allowed to be a house husband again?

If I hadn't accidentally seen them through the window, how much longer would I have carried the weight of a killer?

I grabbed her wrist. I gripped it so hard my nails nearly broke her skin.

"I explained it to you a thousand times! I told you he jumped on his own, but you never gave me a single ounce of trust!"

Hatred, raw and suffocating, clawed its way up my throat. The countless times I had broken down dangling in the sky wrapped tightly around my neck like a noose.

"You knew exactly what was going on last month! You knew Finn was acting out a sick play, so why didn't you tell me immediately? Why did you keep sending me out to wash those damn windows!"

My voice cracked, tears streaming down my bruised face. "If you had just believed me, even once."

I screamed until my lungs burned. But Lisa just stood there, leaning silently against the hospital wall.

When my tears finally ran dry, she pushed the designer gift box toward me and let out a heavy sigh.

"That's enough. It's all in the past now. He's young and immature. Don't hold a grudge against him."

The string in my mind, stretched to its absolute limit for a thousand agonizing days and nights, finally snapped.

A simple it's all in the past from her lips was supposed to erase my three years of hell. It was supposed to bury the fact that my own mother, unable to bear the public witch hunt, had thrown herself off a building. It was supposed to wipe away the agonizing pain of a man who was almost locked in a psychiatric ward.

All the fight drained out of me.

A loud crash shattered the silence.

Finn stood in the doorway, a shattered glass thermos pooling hot water around his expensive sneakers. He rushed to my bedside and dropped to his knees, forcing out crocodile tears.

"Penn, please don't back my sister into a corner. Ignorance isn't a crime. She was just heartbroken over me. She only did those things to you to appease the media and the public."

He sniffled, looking up at me. "If you want to hit someone, hit me."

A single tear rolled down Finn's cheek. He suddenly sprang up, grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table, and pressed it hard against his wrist.

A line of crimson blood welled up. Lisa panicked.

She lunged forward, desperately pulling Finn into her arms, pressing her hand against his minor cut. She turned her head, looking at me with exhausted exasperation.

"Are you happy now? It's been three years. Let Finn go, and let yourself go too. Even if his suicide was fake, the fact that you bullied him and made him feel worthless was real."

She turned on her heel and walked out. The designer gift bag she had brought slipped from the table and hit the floor.

A sharp, metallic clink echoed in the room.

My hands trembled with a sickening rhythm. Like a ghost, I reached down and picked it up.

A diamond ring, heavy and brilliant.

This was the wedding ring she was supposed to put on my finger three years ago.

Lisa and I had been the golden couple of our social circle. We matched perfectly in status and love. But just as I was drowning in the joy of our upcoming wedding, Finn, the adopted stray she had sent abroad, suddenly crashed back into our lives. He begged me not to kick him out after we got married.

He twisted the truth at every turn, playing the victim. Even with the strong foundation Lisa and I had, cracks began to form.

My mother was the first to see through his act. She cornered Lisa and demanded she send Finn away, threatening to call off the wedding if she refused.

But exactly on the day Lisa and I were supposed to exchange rings, Finn stood crying on the edge of a high-rise opposite our venue. He screamed into a megaphone, begging me to let him go in death. Then he jumped.

Overnight, I went from the most respected groom in the city to a cold-blooded murderer.

The dead are always the ultimate victims.

For three years, my ring finger remained painfully empty. I became the biggest joke in high society.

Looking at the sparkling diamond, I tried to slide it onto my finger. It wouldn't fit. I shoved it, twisting the metal against my skin until it bruised.

But these hands, once elegant and manicured, had grown thick, calloused, and swollen from years of gripping high-tension ropes in the freezing sky.

Hot tears splashed onto the back of my hand. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a crumbled sheet of paper diagnosing me with severe clinical depression, and chewed on a bitter pill I kept wrapped inside it.

I smiled, tasting the bitterness.

Lisa. I don't want a ring that is three years late.

And I don't want you anymore, either.

Lisa threw a lavish welcome back gala for Finn. She used every connection she had to cover up his lies, personally escorting him through the ballroom to give him face.

Yet two years ago, when my mother passed away, she couldn't even be bothered to attend the funeral. She had just looked at me with fake pity and said she hated crowded spaces.

In the blink of an eye, I became the city's favorite punching bag again. They laughed at the Ivy League graduate who had been reduced to a window washer. They laughed that I couldn't even compete with an orphaned adopted brother.

Three days later, Lisa finally came home.

Stripped of her usual icy demeanor, she hugged me from behind, burying her chin into my shoulder. She smelled of expensive champagne and happiness.

"I'm so glad Finn is alive. Our family is finally whole again."

When I didn't respond, she stepped in front of me, pressing her forehead gently against mine. "Alright, I know you're angry. But do it for me. Let it go, okay? Finn is back, but his depression is severe. I have to fly out to London tomorrow for a business trip. Please take good care of him for a few days."

With that, she walked into her study. She glanced back at me, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as I stood frozen in place. But she didn't say anything.

I gripped my trembling hands together and dry-swallowed a handful of prescription pills. The trauma of the heights combined with the relentless mental torture had ruined me. I lived in constant guilt, my subconscious entirely convinced that I really was a murderer.

I thought depression wouldn't literally kill me. But ever since I discovered her lie, my physical symptoms had worsened drastically.

Once the pills kicked in, I walked into the bedroom and opened a wooden box containing my mother's belongings.

I picked up her favorite antique comb and sat before the mirror. I gently brushed my hair. A massive clump of hair fell out, settling lifelessly in my palm.

Staring at the face in the mirror, a face so much like my mother's, I finally smiled. A genuine, relieved smile.

"Mom. I'll be there to keep you company very soon."

I took a USB drive and downloaded the cached videos my private investigator had sent me.

Lisa. Before I die, I'm going to leave you one hell of a parting gift.

The next morning, a group of burly bodyguards dragged me out of bed. They ignored my protests, threw me into a black SUV, and drove me straight to a massive theme park.

They tossed me onto the concrete right at Finn's feet.

These men were Lisa's personal security detail. Back when I was constantly stalked and harassed by the press, I begged her for just one reliable guard. She flatly refused. Now, she had given them all to Finn.

"Penn, didn't my sister ever bring you to an amusement park?" Finn crouched down, his eyes dripping with malice. "Look up. She rushed the construction on this entire place just to give it to me before her trip."

He smirked, patting my pale cheek. "I heard you're an expert at high-altitude work now. Be a good brother and scrub the rollercoaster tracks clean for me."

My eyes widened in sheer horror. The panic attack was already starting. "You're psychotic. Do you honestly think Lisa will let you get away with this forever? I am her legal husband. Doing this to me is slapping her in the face!"

"I told you three years ago, I never wanted to steal your sister. I never wanted to kick you out. Why wouldn't you just listen?"

He laughed, picking up a handful of gravel and throwing it hard into my face. Sharp rocks cut my cheek.

"If it weren't for you, I would be the one marrying her."

Before I could process his sick confession, his men hoisted me up. They dragged me to the highest peak of the rollercoaster tracks.

The howling wind slapped me relentlessly. I tried desperately to breathe, to stay sane. But then, Finn unhooked the safety carabiner from my chest harness. He stood on the maintenance platform, laughing as I clung to the greasy steel rail for dear life, my entire body violently shaking.

Through the dizzying haze, I saw a familiar figure down below.

Lisa. She was wearing casual clothes, walking up to Finn and playfully punching his chest.

"My flight was delayed. You shouldn't have waited for me. A rollercoaster? It's too high and dangerous. Let's go play something else."

My nose stung. In my memories, she was always in sharp business suits. I had never seen her look so relaxed, so soft.

Another violent gust of wind hit me. The rail shuddered. Losing all my pride, I screamed for help.

Instantly, every pair of eyes on the ground snapped upward.

My heart seized. A sudden, humiliating warmth spread down my legs.

"Holy crap, there's a guy up there! He doesn't even have a safety line!" a tourist yelled.

"Why isn't anyone helping him? Oh my god, he's so terrified he peed himself!"

Lisa looked up in confusion. The moment our eyes met, my face burned with an unnatural heat. The sheer shame almost drowned me.

She turned feral.

Her face darkened like a thunderstorm, and she backhanded the nearest bodyguard with a vicious crack. "Get him down right now! Do you have a death wish!"

In the last second before I lost consciousness, Lisa wrapped her expensive coat around my shivering body, desperately slapping my cheeks.

"Penn, don't sleep. I'm here."

She held me tight against her chest. She raised her hand high to strike Finn, but stopped at the very last inch. She lowered her arm, exhaling a frustrated breath.

"I really have spoiled you too much."

It was the first time I had ever seen her lose control because of me. Yet, she couldn't even bring herself to slap him.

A rusty blade twisted into my heart, carving out the last bit of oxygen.

At the hospital, I was hooked up to an oxygen machine.

"Miss Lisa, his condition is critical. He absolutely cannot endure any more mental stimulation." The doctor glanced at me. I subtly shook my head, begging him to keep my secret. "His long-term psychological trauma has severely depleted his will to live."

The doctor kept his word. He hid my severe depression from her.

Lisa's face went pale. She struggled to breathe. "I know I handled things poorly. Finn went way too far this time. I promise you, I will punish him."

The same old excuse. The same empty promise.

A tear slid down my temple, soaking into the white pillow. I used every last drop of my strength to pull off the oxygen mask and grab her hand.

"Let's get a divorce. Please."

The hospital room fell dead silent. Only the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor remained.

Lisa suddenly grabbed the back of my neck, forcefully pressing her lips against mine in a violent, punishing kiss.

"Are you trying to back me into a corner too?" she hissed against my lips. "Is this about the three years of punishment, or his little prank?"

"Penn! Don't even dream of leaving me in this lifetime!"

She kissed me until I nearly blacked out from lack of oxygen, then stormed out of the room.

As the door clicked shut, I heard her leaning heavily against the wall outside, panting.

Lisa didn't know what the hell she wanted anymore. She hated Finn for lying, but couldn't bring herself to condemn him. She resented herself for torturing me for three years, but her ego wouldn't let her apologize.

Why was everyone forcing her to choose? She was a victim too! On one hand, she had the childhood friend who saved her life. On the other, the first love she was deeply entangled with.

Separated by a single wall, I gripped the bedrails and dry heaved violently.

My fingers curled into painful spasms as I pulled out my phone.

"Speed up the process. Money is no object," I texted the investigator.

That night, a video of Lisa publicly punishing Finn trended all over social media.

I took a deep breath and clicked play.

Inside a loud VIP club, a heavily intoxicated Finn was crying, screaming that he wanted to marry her. Lisa dragged him in front of the camera. The crowd held their breath. So did I.

A moment later, she uncapped a permanent marker and drew a cartoon turtle on Finn's face.

"A small punishment to teach you a lesson. No more extreme pranks," she scolded lightly. "Your brother-in-law isn't a young boy anymore. He can't handle your roughhousing."

My fingers turned completely to ice. I quietly locked my phone.

I pulled out the hospital-issued fruit knife and pressed the sharp tip against my chest, slowly dragging it across my skin.

Physical pain was the only way left to drown out the screaming in my head.

For a long time after that, Finn stayed far away from me. Lisa was buried in corporate work, but she called constantly to check in. Mountains of expensive gifts arrived at the apartment daily.

High society praised her. Three years ago, she punished her husband for her brother, proving she was fiercely just. Now, she showered her traumatized husband with love, proving her loyalty. She became the absolute paragon of elite society.

But my body was rapidly shutting down.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother's bloodied face, screaming at me, asking why I killed someone. Or I felt the vertigo of falling from the sky, waiting for the fatal impact.

My phone buzzed. Lisa texted, asking me to accompany her to a high-end auction to get some fresh air. I wanted to refuse, but the catalog she sent included an emerald necklace my mother used to love. I agreed.

The auction hall was packed with the city's billionaires.

The moment I sat down, Finn strolled over with a stunning model on his arm. He offered a boyish smile.

"Lisa, the CEO of Vanguard Group is waiting for you in the back lounge to discuss the merger. You go ahead. I'll stay here and keep Penn company. We have so many misunderstandings. It's time we cleared the air."

My chest tightened. I grabbed Lisa's sleeve.

She hesitated for a split second, then patted the back of my hand. "Wait for me here."

Watching her walk away, I immediately stood up to leave. But Finn slammed his hands heavily onto my shoulders, forcing me back into the velvet chair.

"The show is about to start. Don't you want to see what the opening item is?"

The moment the words left his mouth, a spotlight hit the center stage.

There was a split second of absolute silence in the grand hall. Then, an eruption of crude laughter. Women covered their mouths, their faces flushed. Men exchanged lewd glances and smirked.

My fists clenched so hard my fingernails bit into my palms.

On the stage was a life-sized, milk-white sculpture of a naked woman in an incredibly degrading, intimate pose.

And the face carved into the marble was the face of the mother I mourned every single night.

I surged forward, ready to kill him, but Finn's chilling whisper stopped me in my tracks. "Sit down. Sit tight and watch exactly how you murdered your own mother."

"If you hadn't insisted on marrying Lisa, your mother and I wouldn't have been pushed to such extremes."

The massive LED screen behind the sculpture flickered to life.

It was a security footage recording. A video playing my mother's final, despairing moments on that rooftop, capturing the exact second she stepped into the void. All because of me.

"I remember that woman. Born into old money, incredibly arrogant. But then her son became a murderer. She couldn't handle the shame and jumped," a socialite whispered loudly behind me.

"If I gave birth to a curse like that, I'd jump too."

"I heard the killer is Miss Lisa's husband."

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, turning frantically to find Lisa. And there she was. Standing near the back of the crowd, looking right at me. She gave a microscopic shake of her head.

She had promised me weeks ago that she would clear my name.

It was all a lie. A stalling tactic.

She just didn't want to make a scene. Just like three years ago. Just like today. I was nothing but a pawn she could sacrifice whenever it suited her image.

My phone dinged. The private investigator had just uploaded the final file to the server.

I slowly wiped the tears from my eyes.

I turned around and sprinted toward the rooftop.