Chapter 2
The officer looked at the deed in my hand.
She scanned the legal language.
The raised seal of the county clerk caught the light.
The authority of the document was absolute.
"Ma'am," the officer said,
her gaze shifting to Marjorie.
"This document is verified and current."
"It’s a mistake," Marjorie insisted.
Her voice was losing its sharp edge of command.
"My son was not in his right mind when he signed that."
"That is a matter for the civil courts," the officer replied.
"But as of right now,
this lady has legal occupancy."
She looked around the room.
"I suggest you vacate the premises immediately."
Declan stepped forward,
his chest puffed out.
"We are family.
We aren't going anywhere."
"Then you are trespassing," the officer said,
her hand resting on her duty belt.
"And I will arrest every single one of you."
Siobhan’s purse hit the floor with a heavy thud.
The police officer turned toward the sound.
"What’s in the bag?"
I didn't wait for Siobhan to lie.
"She has watches," I said.
"And likely the company hard drives."
The officer took the purse.
She dumped the contents onto the side table.
A gold Rolex,
Bradley’s daily timepiece,
glittered under the chandelier.
Two encrypted external hard drives sat beside it.
The room went deathly silent.
Marjorie looked at her daughter with pure contempt.
"You stole from him," Marjorie whispered.
"I did what I had to do," Siobhan spat back.
"We needed to secure the assets."
"The assets aren't yours!" I shouted,
the pent-up grief finally turning into rage.
"Everything in this house belongs to his legacy."
"You are nothing," Declan muttered.
I walked over to the side table.
I picked up the Rolex.
I felt the warmth of Siobhan’s skin still lingering on the metal.
It was Bradley’s watch.
He had worn it on our wedding day.
"Get out," I said.
My voice was calm,
hollow,
and terrifying.
The officers watched,
ready to intervene.
Declan looked at Marjorie.
He was waiting for a signal.
Marjorie stood frozen.
She looked at the Rolex in my hand.
She looked at the open suitcases.
She looked at the funeral dress I was still wearing.
She realized the game had changed.
The widow was no longer a victim.
She was a guardian.
"We’re leaving," Marjorie said,
her voice trembling.
"But this isn't over."
"It is for you," I said.
I walked to the front door.
I held it open.
The night air rushed in,
smelling of damp earth and coming rain.
One by one,
they filed past me.
They didn't look at me.
They couldn't.
They looked like defeated soldiers.
When Siobhan reached the threshold,
she stopped.
She looked back at the empty purse on the floor.
She looked at me.
"He would have hated you for this," she said.
"He would have hated that you became exactly what he was trying to protect me from," I replied.
May you like
She flinched.
Then she walked out into the darkness.
