Chapter 4 - The House of Cards CollapsesThe silence in the precinct was thick enough to choke on.
My mother looked as though she were about to faint. She clutched the back of the wooden bench, her knuckles white, her chest heaving in short, shallow gasps.
Tabitha stood frozen, her eyes darting frantically from the video monitor to the trust documents spread across the granite counter.
"No..." Tabitha stammered, her voice rising in panic. "No, that's impossible! Mom told me Dad left that money for me! She said it was my inheritance!"
"Your father left nothing for you, Tabitha," Arthur said coldly. "Because three years before he died, he discovered you had stolen his credit cards to pay for a spring break trip to Mexico. He left his entire estate to Anya—the daughter who actually cared for him while he was dying in the hospital."
I stood there, tears blurring my vision as twelve years of lies collapsed around me.
All those years...
All those years of sitting at my mother’s table being treated like a second-class citizen. All those years of being told I was a burden, that my father had died penniless, that I was lucky they let me live in their shadow. I had worked two jobs, skipped meals, saved pennies in chipped mugs, and worn five-year-old shoes—while Tabitha lived in a luxury home paid for with my stolen inheritance.
"You knew," I whispered, turning to stare at my mother.
Celeste wouldn't look at me. She stared at the floor, her mouth working silently.
"You knew Dad left me that money," I said, my voice trembling with a terrifying, cold fury. "When Brynn’s father left us... when I was working eighteen-hour days trying to buy diapers... when I asked you for a two-hundred-dollar loan to fix my car so I wouldn't lose my job... you told me I was irresponsible. You told me I had to learn to live with my choices."
"Anya... please," Celeste whimpered, reaching a trembling hand toward me. "Family has to protect one another... we did it for the family's reputation..."
"Don't touch me," I snapped, stepping back out of her reach.
Detective Vance stepped forward, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his utility belt.
"Tabitha Hayes," Vance declared, turning Tabitha around and pinning her arms behind her back. "You are under arrest for child endangerment, unlawful restraint, and felony financial fraud."
Click. Click.
The sound of the steel handcuffs locking around Tabitha’s wrists echoed through the room like a thunderclap.
"Mom! Do something!" Tabitha screamed, hysterically thrashing against the detective’s grip. "Call Greg! Call my husband! Tell him to get the lawyers! They can't do this to me! I have a child!"
"Your husband is already on his way to the station, Mrs. Hayes," Specialist Torres informed her coldly. "And after reviewing the preliminary fraud audit, he requested a private consultation with his own legal team regarding divorce proceedings."
"What?!" Tabitha shrieked as she was led down the hallway toward the holding cells. "Greg! Mom! Help me!"
My mother collapsed onto the wooden bench, sobbing hysterically into her hands. "Anya... please! She's your sister! Don't ruin her life!"
I looked down at my mother—the woman who had watched my five-year-old daughter get locked in a dark room and told me not to overreact.
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"I didn't ruin her life, Celeste," I said quietly, using her first name for the very first time in my life. "You did. When you taught her that she could crush anyone she wanted without consequences."
I turned to Uncle Arthur. "Let's go home."
