CHAPTER 8 — THE ESCAPE THAT EXPOSED EVERYTHING
As everyone watched Sarah reunite with her father, Mother quietly took one step backward.
Then another.
Prudence noticed.
"Mom..."
Without warning, Mother bolted toward the rear hallway.
"She's running!" one detective shouted.
Chaos erupted.
Guests scattered.
Two officers chased after her.
Prudence followed, kicking off her high heels as she sprinted through the mansion.
I started after them, but William's head of security grabbed my arm.
"Stay with your family."
He was right.
Sarah and Jamie needed me.
Seconds later, screams echoed from upstairs.
A loud crash.
Another.
Then silence.
The detectives radioed for backup.
Five minutes later they returned.
Mother had disappeared.
But Prudence hadn't been so lucky.
She sat in handcuffs on the grand staircase, sobbing uncontrollably.
"It wasn't my idea!"
She pointed wildly toward the backyard.
"It was Mom!"
"She made me do everything!"
The detective crouched beside her.
"What everything?"
Prudence's panic finally shattered her loyalty.
"She opened Daniel's mail."
"She stole Sarah's jewelry."
"She sold the gifts."
"She forged the signatures."
Words poured out faster than she could control them.
"And..."
She hesitated.
The detective leaned closer.
"And what?"
Prudence looked at me.
Then at Jamie.
Finally she whispered,
"The fire."
Sarah suddenly stopped crying.
"What fire?"
Prudence buried her face in her hands.
"The nursery."
My blood turned to ice.
Jamie had been only eighteen months old.
Mother had told me an electrical outlet had caused a small fire while Sarah was grocery shopping.
Sarah grabbed Prudence by the shoulders.
"What are you saying?"
Prudence screamed.
"It wasn't an accident!"
Everyone froze.
"My mother poured gasoline into the storage room!"
The detective's eyes widened.
"Why?"
"Because..."
Prudence sobbed,
"...she wanted Sarah to move behind the kitchen."
"She said poor people shouldn't live in the main house."
Sarah collapsed into my arms.
Everything...
Every disaster...
Every humiliation...
Had been planned.
Then another detective hurried inside carrying a laptop.
"Sir!"
"We found something in Mrs. Foster's office."
He placed it on the dining table.
Thousands of scanned documents.
Hidden bank accounts.
Property deeds.
Offshore transfers.
Fake signatures.
Secret recordings.
One folder was labeled:
FINAL PLAN
The detective clicked it open.
Inside was a schedule.
Daniel returns: Unknown date.
If suspicious—declare him mentally unstable.
Transfer remaining assets.
Admit him to psychiatric facility if necessary.
My hands began shaking.
May you like
They hadn't only stolen my life.
They had planned to erase me from it forever.
