Chapter 17 - The Last Property
The warehouse had belonged to my grandfather.
I had driven past it hundreds of times without knowing my family still owned it.
Police secured the property before sunset.
Or they thought they did.
At 9:40 p.m., a silent alarm activated inside.
Security footage showed Gerald entering through an old maintenance tunnel.
Teresa followed him.
Police units moved in.
I watched everything from Hill’s command vehicle three blocks away.
Amy was furious that I had gone.
But I needed to see the end.
For nearly twenty minutes, nothing happened.
Then Gerald emerged from a side exit carrying a metal case.
Officers ordered him to stop.
He ran.
He made it less than fifty yards.
Police tackled him beside a loading dock.
The case contained old certificates, legal records, and trust documents.
But Teresa was still inside.
Hill entered with another team.
Minutes passed.
Then smoke appeared from a second-floor window.
My stomach dropped.
Teresa had started a fire.
Firefighters rushed forward.
Police evacuated part of the building.
I could only watch as flames spread across one upstairs office.
Then two officers brought Teresa outside.
She was coughing.
Screaming.
Fighting them.
Even from a distance, I heard my name.
“CONNOR!”
She saw me behind the barricade.
“You did this!”
She screamed.
“You took everything from me!”
For years, that accusation would have destroyed me.
That night it sounded empty.
“I didn’t take anything.”
I said when officers allowed me close enough to speak.
“It was never yours.”
Teresa stared at me.
“You were my son before you were her husband.”
There it was.
The entire sickness in one sentence.
To Teresa, loving Amy meant betraying her.
Building my own family meant stealing something from her.
I shook my head.
“I’m still your son.”
I said.
“But being my mother never gave you ownership of my life.”
She looked toward the police.
Then back at me.
“You’ll regret choosing her.”
“No.”
I replied.
“I regret not choosing her sooner.”
Teresa was taken away.
Gerald was charged before midnight.
Firefighters contained the damage.
Most trust records survived.
At 12:01 a.m., Rachel checked her phone.
Then she smiled.
“What?”
I asked.
“The court entered the emergency order.”
Teresa had been permanently removed from any trustee authority.
My thirty-fifth birthday was forty-eight hours away.
We thought the worst was finally over.
Then Detective Hill received a message from the forensic accounting team.
May you like
Gerald had already transferred $240,000 somewhere.
And the receiving account belonged to someone inside my company.
