“No.”
She stared.
“You can’t stop me.”
“No.”
His voice was cold.
“But I can stop you from taking that bag.”
Her face went white.
And that reaction answered every question.
A few minutes later, the canvas bag sat on the dining room table.
Nobody touched it.
Not yet.
Cormac had called a lawyer friend.
He had called a former police contact.
And he had locked every door.
Exactly like he told me.
Do not let her leave.
Because whatever was inside that bag…
was important enough for Rowan to destroy evidence.
Important enough for my father to secretly record my party.
Important enough for my husband to look terrified.
Finally, the lawyer arrived.
She opened the bag carefully.
Inside was the black binder.
A small USB drive.
Several photographs.
And a stack of documents.
The first photograph made me gasp.
It was my father.
Alive.
Standing beside Rowan.
But the date on the photograph was impossible.
Taken three years after his supposed death.
The second photograph showed something worse.
My father handing Rowan an envelope.
On the back of the photo, someone had written:
The plan worked. Madison still believes we’re gone.
My hands started shaking.
“Gone?”
Cormac looked at me.
“Madison…”
I opened the binder.
The first page had a title.
BUTLER FAMILY ASSET TRANSFER — CONFIDENTIAL
Then beneath it:
Subject: Madison Butler
My name.
My entire life.
Everything I owned.
Everything I inherited.
Everything I thought was mine.
The next page made my heart stop.
Because it contained a signature.
My father’s signature.
And beside it…
my sister Rowan’s.
The agreement had been created six years ago.
One year after my father’s death.
And one sentence was highlighted:
Upon Madison’s emotional instability, guardianship of assets may be transferred to immediate family member.
I looked up.
