struggle.
“You want my house?” I asked.
Vanessa smiled gently. “You don’t need it anymore.”
My gaze moved to the framed photograph on the mantel: my husband holding our children at the beach, all three laughing in the wind.
Then I faced my family.
“You’re right,” I said quietly. “I don’t need anything from you anymore.”
They mistook my words for surrender.
They were wrong.
They’d forgotten my husband was a forensic accountant.
And before the accident, he’d uncovered something…..
The first clue waited inside Daniel’s locked desk drawer.
I
