And while they laughed in church, convinced grief had blinded me, the county medical examiner was already reviewing the bloodwork they had tried to hide.
Mr. Halden read the next clause.
“If my death occurs under suspicious circumstances, my mother shall have full authority to pursue civil action, release evidence, and vote my shares against my husband, Evan Vale, in all corporate matters.”
A murmur moved through the church—shock, horror, hunger.
Evan looked at me as if he had just realized the coffin was not the trap.
I was.
“You bitter old woman,” he whispered.
Celeste recovered first. “This means nothing. He’s the CEO. He has lawyers.”
I stepped closer to her.
“And I have recordings.”
Her face shifted—just for a fraction of a second.
But it was enough.
I turned to the mourners, to Evan’s board members sitting rigid in the second pew, to the detective standing near the rear door in a dark coat.
