Montgomery had 37 reasons to kill his twin, but Brett’s laughter after reading his novel tipped him over the edge. Fist clenched, he pasted on a smile before Brett looked up.

“Nice try, Monty, but plot twists are more my thing.”

Despite being firstborn by nine whole minutes, Montgomery always came second. If Montgomery liked a girl, she always fell in love with Brett. When he showed an interest in diving, his brother won all the gold medals. And when Montgomery had writer’s block, his brother offered to “help.” Quickly, Brett’s help mushroomed into a tragically popular series and he never let Montgomery forget it.

Like Athena from Zeus, the idea for Brett’s demise sprang fully formed into Montgomery’s head. As he gathered the necessaries, space heater, timer, industrial solvent, Montgomery grew giddy. Once he finally found the ideal location, an abandoned office park, Montgomery was a new man. Attracting his twin to his end was effortless. In his personal calendar, Montgomery pretended he had a clandestine meeting with a literary agent. He knew Brett would show up to ruin things.

After Montgomery set his fratricidal plan in motion, he was calm except for the nearly insatiable urge to call Brett to share his triumph. His hand itched to call. Fortunately, three martinis at his favorite watering hole stopped him from scratching. When his phone rang, Montgomery yelped and splashed the Grey Goose on the bartender. It was Brett’s ringtone. The room spun. Someone said something but the sound was too far away for Montgomery to understand. He must have touched his phone. On the flatscreen overhead, a news report showed a massive fire at an underground rave at a nearby office park. Montgomery’s eyes went from screen to screen.

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