“Why are you acting crazy again? I told you—our son climbed up to the rooftop because he was playing. Nanny Kate is already in the hospital because of me. What murderer are you asking for?”
I slashed Margaret’s palm with my knife.
“My son’s death was suspicious. There’s no way it was an accident!”
I had already guessed that Daniel’s strange behavior lately was hiding something.
He had been in such a rush to cremate the body, just to protect the real culprit.
When I dragged Margaret to the edge of the rooftop, a crowd had gathered below, watching the scene unfold.
Fire trucks blared, ambulance lights flashed, and the entire street was in chaos.
Friends and relatives who had come for the party turned pale with shock.
Daniel emerged from the crowd, flanked by a team of bodyguards.
He looked up at his terrified, pale-faced mother, her hair messy from fear.
“Grace! My mother had nothing to do with our son’s death. How can you blame her? Bring her down—she’s old, if something happens to her, can you live with that?”
“Come down, and I won’t hold this against you. We can still live a good life together, okay?”