Half a month later, Sebastian's trial kicked off.Jack showed up too.It was the first time we'd crossed paths since the police station. He looked rough—thin, worn-out, and a mess.No surprise. Word about the murder plot had spread like wildfire.Gigi? Gone. Divorced him on the spot.His company? Fired him without hesitation.During a break, Jack made a beeline toward me.He started talking about his childhood, pulling out every nostalgic memory he could."Please. Drop the fight over the assets. Leave me the house. If I lose it, I'll be out on the streets."I stared at him, stone-cold.Why would I give him anything?He wasn't even my biological son. He'd plotted to kill me. Now he expected me to give him money?What a joke."What are you to me?" I said, voice low but biting. "Why should I give you money?"That's when Jack lost it.Right there, in front of everyone, he exploded."If you don't leave me the house today, don't expect me to take care of you when you're old!
The video call from yesterday left me rattled.By morning, I couldn't sleep. Figured some fresh air might clear my head, so I headed downstairs.The second I stepped outside—bam—an ambulance was parked right there by the building.I thought, 'Huh, someone must've had a medical emergency. Kept walking.'Then, out of nowhere, two guys in white coats bolted toward me. One on each side, grabbing my arms."Ma'am, don't panic! We're here to help. Your schizophrenia can be treated!" one of them blurted.Wait—what?! My brain short-circuited. "Excuse me?! Who even are you? Why are you grabbing me?""Your son called us," the other guy jumped in. "Said you've been wandering around, not coming home. That you've been scammed out of all your money.""We have your medical report," the first guy said. "You'll be safe with us."Their words were smooth, but their grip tightened, steering me toward the ambulance.I jerked back, thrashing. "I'm not sick! Let me go! This is kidnapping! I'm callin
"Come on, Dad. With Helena's brains? She'll never figure it out." Jack waved his hand. "She's useless. Honestly, the way you set it up? Perfect. Letting her die like this? Cleanest solution."She hasn't even opened the drawer with the will. She won't know a thing."Hearing Jack talk about my death like he was planning a grocery list? My stomach twisted.I should've known better. There was no saving either of them.Sebastian didn't even pause. "You're right. I've overestimated that worthless woman."She's good for nothing but cleaning up after us. Even if she did see the letters, so what? I've kept a roof over her head for thirty years. She should be grateful."She's old. Almost done for. Even if she gets angry, what difference does it make? She's got no one else. Sooner or later, she'll come crawling back."Jack shifted uncomfortably. "But, Dad... something felt off today. She ignored you. Didn't even look at me. And she hasn't come back yet. You think she'll turn on us? We can'
Jack was, after all, the child I had raised with my own hands.More than thirty years of affection wasn't something I could just cut off overnight.I still held onto a shred of hope.If he saw me as his mother—if he'd replaced the poisoned medication—maybe I could show him mercy.Seeing that she couldn't change my mind, Stella suggested coming home with me.The three of us—Stella, Zayne, and me—pulled up to the house. But just as we were about to unlock the front door, we froze.Voices.Coming from inside.Zayne immediately held out a hand to stop me. His other hand slipped into his jacket, pulling out a recording device.The voices weren't loud. We had to press against the door to make out the conversation.Sebastian.He'd already been discharged from the hospital and was back home.Inside, he and Jack were talking."Jack, it looks like she found out. The drawer in my nightstand isn't the original one—she swapped it."Jack sounded anxious. "What did you keep in that draw
Too much had happened today.By the time I was sitting in the hospital waiting for my test results, I'd finally calmed down enough to think clearly.What now? What was next?I was in my sixties. My health was holding steady. If I took care of myself, I wasn't dying anytime soon.But still—the thought hit me hard.I'd worked myself to the bone for most of my life, yet I had nothing to my name. No real job outside the house. No retirement savings. No safety net.Except...This family's money? At the very least, half of it should be mine.And Jack's house?Yeah. That title was in my name.Back when they bought it, both Sebastian and Jack were too busy to handle the paperwork, so they dumped it on me. At the time, I didn't think much of it. It was Jack's home. It made sense to put it under his name.But my niece, Stella, stopped me.She warned me Jack might not treat Gigi right. If they ever got divorced, the house could get split with her. Stella suggested I keep it in my name
It was hard to believe.Such cold, heartless words—from the very child I'd raised with my own two hands.When did he become like this?When did he rot from the inside out?Jack wasn't done. His voice climbed. "Mom, you keep saying Dad didn't tell you anything, but did you ever stop to think why?"You never cared about what happened at home. You've never cared about Dad at all! No wonder you had no idea he tried to kill himself."You've never been a proper wife."What a righteous accusation.I didn't care?Of course I cared.When we got married, I dreamed of a warm, loving family. Of building a life with someone who cared for me as much as I cared for him.But Sebastian had been the one to draw that line.Every time I tried to get close—tried to ask about his day, his work, his life—he pushed me away. Always with that same sharp impatience.Even when he was sick, I offered to take care of him. And how did he respond?With anger. Snapping at me until I backed off.Eventual