The one lying in the morgue was his own mother!
David had grown up poor. His father couldn’t handle the hard life and abandoned him when he was still in diapers.
It was Margaret who raised him all by herself.
For fear he might suffer, she never remarried.
“What? Too little?”
My lips trembled as I tried to explain, “This isn’t about the money, honey.”
“The one who died—she… she was our mom!”
I had worried he wouldn’t be able to handle the truth, so I’d spoken carefully.
But instead, he glanced at his watch and frowned impatiently.
“I know. You don’t have to keep repeating it.”
“If you don’t think it’s too little, then just sign the paper and don’t waste my time. I’ve got things to do.”
I blankly flipped open the agreement, unsure where to even begin reading.
Until one line made my pupils contract sharply.
It claimed Margaret bending over to tie her shoelace was an intentional scam.
That because she was “scamming,” she caught Sophia off guard while the girl was feeling unwell, which explained why Sophia didn’t notice what was happening.
It was absurd. A complete reversal of truth.
Clutching the thin sheet of paper, I asked David, “Did you even watch the surveillance video at the police station?”