The balance: twenty million dollars.
For a full minute, I thought it had to be a mistake. Rain dripped from my hair onto the pages as I stared at the numbers, waiting for them to change. But they didn’t.
The documents confirmed it—a fully paid townhouse in Queen Anne, also in my name.
With shaking hands, I opened the letter.
Margaret’s handwriting was unmistakable.
She explained everything. Daniel and his sister had been secretly draining money from my company for months. If she had warned me openly, they would have hidden the evidence. So she played along, pretending to be on their side.
The money and property had been secured in my name—protected.
“Use the phone. Don’t use your old one. Let them believe you’ve lost everything,” she wrote.
“This isn’t over. But now, you’re not alone.”
I read the letter again and again.
