I stepped closer to him, stopping just inches away. I could smell the expensive cologne he wore—the same scent Daniel used to buy him for Christmas, paid for with funds drained from accounts bearing my forged signature.
“You stood at the back of this room and watched me drown in your lies for six days,” I said softly, ensuring my words were meant for him alone. “You thought I was weak because I didn’t scream back. You forgot one fundamental rule about Daniel’s family, Grant: we keep our receipts.”
The detectives escorted Grant down the center aisle, past the rows of empty pews and out into the glaring sunlight. Vivian remained seated, utterly abandoned by the son she had protected, the allies she had manipulated, and the fortune she had tried to steal.
Part 4
By evening, the chapel was entirely empty, save for the funeral directors waiting quietly by the side exit and the damp flowers wilting in the late afternoon heat.
