Chapter 4 - The Interrogation
The detective led me to a quiet room to take my official statement.
He laid out the timeline they had extracted from the phone.
My father had been planning this for three weeks.
The text messages between him and his girlfriend were a chilling blueprint of greed.
They debated how to make it look like a tragic, bizarre household accident.
"He knew you were at work," the detective explained.
"He knew your grandmother was napping upstairs."
"They thought they had a ten-minute window to stage the scene, call 911, and play the grieving parents."
My blood ran cold.
"But I came home early," I whispered.
"I got off my shift early because I had a headache."
"Thank God you did," the detective replied.
He closed his folder.
"The girlfriend is already singing to the district attorney."
"She took a plea deal to testify against him."
"She gets twenty years."
"He's looking at life without parole."
I felt no pity.
May you like
I only felt a burning, absolute rage.
A man could look at his own flesh and blood and see nothing but a paycheck.
