Chapter 3
My mother, Eleanor, clutched her pearl necklace, her eyes bulging as she stumbled backward against the entryway table. “Chloe… tell us this isn’t true. Tell us this is some sick trick!”
Chloe couldn’t speak. She collapsed onto her knees, hyperventilating as tears ruined her heavy makeup.
For three years, she had been taking hundreds of thousands of dollars from my parents—money they had drained from their retirement funds to pay for her “tuition, lab fees, and private research trips.” She had spent every cent on luxury vacations, designer clothes, and lifestyle campaigns, feeding them fake report cards and forged university letters.
“That’s not all,” Nora said, clicking to the final slide on the screen.
A financial paper trail populated the display. It showed the wire transfers Chloe had been making over the last eighteen months. To cover up her impending lack of a diploma, Chloe had been transferring funds into a shell company controlled by her ex-husband, Julian Vance, attempting to launder my parents’ remaining life savings into offshore accounts before her lies collapsed.
My father turned ghastly pale, clutching his chest. “Our retirement… our savings…”
Right on cue, the front doorbell chimed.
Nora walked calmly to the entryway and opened the door. Standing on the porch was Arthur Vance—my late father-in-law’s brother, a formidable corporate attorney, flanked by two uniformed police officers.
“Good morning,” Arthur said smoothly, stepping into the foyer. “I am here on behalf of my client, Evelyn, as well as the university board. We’ve just filed formal criminal charges against Chloe for grand larceny, wire fraud, and forged academic credentials.”
Chloe let out a blood-curdling shriek as the officers stepped forward, clicking heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
“Dad! Mom! Help me!” Chloe wailed, struggling as she was led toward the door. “It was Julian’s idea! He told me we could take Evelyn’s house too!”
My parents stood frozen, completely shattered by the absolute ruin of their golden child.
Eleanor turned to me, her eyes red, her hands trembling as she tried to reach for my arm. “Evelyn… sweetie… please, tell the police to stop. She’s your sister! We’re your family!”
I stepped out of her reach, looking down at the quitclaim deed my father had slammed onto my counter minutes ago. I picked up the paper, ripped it clean in half, and let the pieces fall to the floor.
“You called me a failure, Eleanor,” I said, my voice steady, cold, and entirely free of tears. “You told me I was nothing. But this house was bought with my honest blood, sweat, and tears. And for ten years, you enabled a thief while trying to rob your own granddaughter.”
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“Evelyn, please—” my father choked out, his arrogance completely crushed.
“Get out of my house,” I commanded flatly. “Before I have Arthur press charges against both of you for extortion.”
