“He’s already written the report stating Sarah was in a state of extreme mental distress. It justifies why she forgot to turn off the stove or whatever story we need. We just need to get out of here before the timer hits.”
I felt a wave of rage so hot it threatened to choke me. They were talking about my death like it was a business transaction. I looked through the crack in the door and saw them standing over my father’s old cedar chest, the one he told me never to open unless I absolutely had to. Mark had forced the lock. He was pulling out velvet bags of jewelry, but then he stopped. He pulled out a small leather-bound ledger.
“What is that?”
Chloe asked, leaning in.
“It’s her father’s private account book,”
Mark whispered, his eyes widening.
“Wait, these aren’t just bank accounts. These are deeds. Properties in London, Zurich, Tokyo. Sarah didn’t even know half of what the old man was worth. Chloe, we aren’t looking at 33 million dollars. We’re looking at 10 times that.”
I watched Chloe’s face transform. The greed in her eyes was almost physical.
“Then we can’t let her just die in a fire,”
she hissed.
“If she dies before she signs the final transfer of the international deeds, that money goes into legal probate for years. We need her alive for one more hour. We need her to sign.”
Mark cursed, dropping the wrench.
“You said the fire was the only way to cover the missing jewelry.”
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