For illustration purposes
“Are we exposing a manipulative matriarch who staged her son’s death,” she asked, already halfway into action, “or are we just making her uncomfortable?”
“Exposing,” I said.
Gabriel hesitated. “She has influence. Lawyers. The board.”
“So do we,” Janet shot back. “And a story people won’t ignore.”
Walking into Camille’s estate this time felt different.
I wasn’t the insecure girl from years ago.
I was someone who had lived through loss—and discovered it was all a lie.
Camille greeted us with a flawless smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You shouldn’t have brought her,” she hissed at Gabriel.
“I’m not Elias,” he said evenly. “I’m Gabriel. And I’m done being controlled.”
I stepped forward, holding the envelope—medical records, documentation, everything we needed.
“We know about the falsified identification,” I said. “The isolation. The threats.”
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
