On the screen was an email addressed to my mother, father, brother, aunt, the probate attorney, the bank’s legal department, and a detective from the financial crimes division.

Subject line: Documentation Regarding Attempted Theft and Estate Fraud.

Evan slowly looked up.

I kissed Noah’s forehead.

“They wanted me helpless,” I said quietly. “So I’m going to let them explain themselves to everyone at once.”

Part 3

The confrontation happened in my parents’ kitchen, because criminals love familiar rooms.

Dad stood beside the counter in his church polo, red-faced and swollen with borrowed authority. Mom sat at the table, lips pressed thin, scrolling through her phone like she was preparing for a performance. My brother, Adam, leaned against the refrigerator looking irritated and confused.