Gaines’ expression hardened. “Evidence like this tends to vanish when family gets wind of it. We’ll secure the scene and take the lockbox and that envelope for processing. Ms. Hart, I’ll need you downtown for a statement, and we may request your access to any financial files you have.”
Chloe pushed past the officer, getting close enough that I could smell her perfume. “What are you doing?” she demanded, eyes bright with anger.
I forced myself to meet her stare. “Why are you here, Chloe? How did you know to show up?”
Her gaze flicked to her phone. “Mom said you raced over. She’s worried.”
So my mother had been monitoring me—calls, location sharing, something I hadn’t questioned because it was “family.” Heat rose in my chest, sharp and clean.
Gaines opened the back door of his sedan. “One more thing, Ms. Hart. If this points where I think it does, it won’t stay a will dispute. It becomes a criminal case.”
As I stepped toward the car, Chloe leaned in, voice dropping to a hiss. “If you go through with this, you’re burning the whole family down.”
The tech glanced at the paper as it peeled open, then quickly covered it again, eyes widening. I caught only the first line in Evelyn’s looping script: “Emily—if you’re reading this, they’ve already tried to take what isn’t theirs.”
Inside the house, a gloved hand slid a letter opener beneath my grandmother’s envelope seal.
The interview room downtown was plain and too bright. Detective Gaines recorded my statement while I tried to speak like someone whose life hadn’t just tilted. I told him what I could: Grandma’s missing mail, the “helpful” way my mother inserted herself into every bank errand, the fights Chloe started whenever Evelyn mentioned updating her will. Gaines asked for dates, bank names, and who had access to Evelyn’s documents.
