“Sir, please sit down. These documents have been verified.”
My father’s face collapsed into something unrecognizable—rage and panic twisted together.
And nearly dropped the paper.
“The worst thing your father did was not what he stole. It was what he erased.”
My throat tightened.
“In 1998, a child was born into this family. That child disappeared within weeks. Your father knows why. And so does your mother.”
A sound escaped my mother’s throat—small, broken.
The room froze.
This wasn’t about money anymore.
This was about a life buried beneath silence.
Not out of remorse.
Out of terror.
Because he knew what was coming.
Aunt Vivienne had chosen the only moment he couldn’t control—
A room full of witnesses.
A will that couldn’t be silenced.
And a truth that refused to stay buried.
