I nodded, pretending to yawn.
“I think I will, Mark. I’m feeling really heavy tonight.”
I went upstairs, but I didn’t sleep. I put on my headphones and opened the encrypted link Elias had sent to my laptop. The messages started flooding in. They weren’t from a business partner. They were from a woman named C.
“Is she under yet?”
“Yeah. Swallowed every drop. She’s getting easier to manage. The fog is becoming her permanent state.”
“Good. The lawyer says if the specialist signs the incompetency papers by Tuesday, we can list the lake house by Friday. I’m tired of waiting for our life to start.”
My heart stopped. The lake house. That was my father’s favorite place. It wasn’t just property; it was where my childhood lived. And C. I scrolled back through the photos he’d sent her. My breath caught. It was Chloe, my best friend since college, the woman who had been my maid of honor, the woman who had sat on my couch three days ago holding my hand and telling me I needed to trust Mark with the estate.
It got worse. Elias started flagging the bank transfers. Mark hadn’t just been stealing jewelry. He had opened a series of offshore accounts in Chloe’s name. He was funneling my father’s life insurance payouts, money that was meant to fund a foundation for underprivileged children, directly into a luxury condo development in the Caribbean. They weren’t just waiting for me to be declared incompetent; they were planning to move there the moment I was locked away. They had even looked at care homes for me, places with reviews that mentioned minimal visitation and heavy sedation.
I sat in the dark, the glow of the laptop screen the only light in the room. I realized then that I wasn’t just fighting for my money; I was fighting for my life. If I let them take me to that specialist on Tuesday, I would never walk out a free woman again. Soon, I heard a creak on the stairs. Mark is coming up, but he isn’t going to bed. He’s carrying a small black bag, the same kind of bag a doctor might carry. He opens the bedroom door and I realized he isn’t waiting for Tuesday anymore. He wants to speed up the process tonight.
I saw the face of my real enemy, my best friend. Now I was about to face the man who promised to love me until death do us part, and I realized he was trying to make that happen sooner than planned. The door didn’t just open, it glided. Mark always prided himself on how well-oiled the hinges were in this house. He stood in the doorway, a silhouette against the hall light, holding a small black medical bag.
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