“Why sell my townhouse?” I asked, wiping my cheek.
“Because I deserved compensation for everything I gave up,” she replied.
“And my ten-year prison sentence?” I asked.
“I assumed your expensive lawyers would get it reduced to probation,” she answered casually.
To my own mother, ten years of my freedom had been little more than a bargaining chip.
Chad finally lost patience.
He lifted the shotgun slightly and shoved papers onto the dining table.
“Enough talk! Sign the full confession and the inheritance waiver right now.”
“If I sign, what happens to the two of you?” I asked.
“We take the remaining cash and leave the country together,” Lorraine answered, reaching out to hold Chad’s hand tightly.
That was when I realized I had spent days trying to save a mother who had never truly existed.
I picked up the pen and looked at Chad.
He grinned triumphantly.
“I knew you would eventually see reason,” Chad said.
“Just one last thing,” I said calmly. “I want to hear Mom state her confession clearly.”
Lorraine frowned.
“State what?”
“Say that you knew Chad was framing me for corporate theft,” I demanded.
“You already know I did,” she replied impatiently.
“I want to hear you say it out loud,” I insisted.
Lorraine took a sharp breath and yelled, “Yes, Genevieve! I knew every detail! I gave false testimony because I was sick of living off your charity! Chad promised me financial security, a luxury home, and a fresh start once you were out of the picture!”
“And you actively forged the power of attorney?” I asked.
“Yes, I signed it myself!” she screamed.
Chad panicked and shouted, “Shut your mouth, Lorraine!”
Too late.
Hidden inside the small metallic lapel pin on my jacket was a wireless transmitter streaming every word directly to the tactical team outside.
When Chad saw the cold realization on my face, he sprinted toward the rear exit.
Then red and blue emergency lights flooded the cabin.
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