Chapter 10 - THE MOTHER WHO CHOSE TOO LATE
Margaret confessed everything she had done.
She helped Daniel create statements saying I was mentally unstable.
She signed letters claiming I forgot appointments.
She told relatives I could not manage money.
She even lied about seeing me leave Noah unattended.
None of it was true.
“Why?”
I asked.
We spoke through a secure hospital video line.
Margaret looked older than she had a week earlier.
“Daniel said you would divorce him.”
“He said you would take Noah.”
“So you tried to help him take my money?”
She cried.
“I thought if he controlled the trust, your marriage would survive.”
“That isn’t marriage.”
“I know that now.”
I wanted to tell her she should have known it before nearly dying.
But she already did.
Margaret offered prosecutors her phone.
Inside were messages from Daniel.
And one message from Victoria.
KEEP EMMA ISOLATED UNTIL THE REVIEW.
Margaret claimed she thought it referred to legal isolation.
Now nobody believed Victoria used words casually.
Then came the midpoint revelation.
Rebecca requested an emergency meeting.
She entered with two federal agents.
“My father’s trust has been altered.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Not legally.”
“Digitally.”
Someone inside the trust administration office had attempted to replace the genuine succession amendment with the false version Daniel had seen.
If successful, Friday’s trustee review could certify fraudulent documents.
The murders would then appear to support a legal transfer that never existed.
Victoria had not merely lied about the trust.
She intended to make the lie real after we died.
“Who has system access?”
I asked.
Rebecca listed four people.
Herself.
Her senior paralegal.
The independent trust accountant.
And the technology administrator.
The technology administrator was Rebecca’s son.
Ethan Shaw.
Victoria’s nephew.
Rebecca went pale as she said his name.
“He wouldn’t.”
Detective Ortiz asked.
“Are you sure?”
Rebecca said nothing.
Family again.
Always family.
Federal agents found Ethan at his apartment.
His computer was gone.
His car was gone.
And his passport had disappeared.
But he had left one thing behind.
A handwritten note addressed to Rebecca.
May you like
MOM, I’M SORRY.
AUNT VICTORIA SAID NO ONE WOULD ACTUALLY DIE.
