Chapter 4 - The Threat is Real
I drove like a madwoman back to the hotel, my tires screeching as I tore through the streets. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. Please let her be okay. Please let her be okay.
I abandoned my car at the hotel entrance, leaving the keys in the ignition, and sprinted through the lobby toward the pool area.
When I burst through the glass doors, the humid air of the indoor pool hit my face. I scanned the area wildly.
"Grace!" I screamed.
Several families turned to look at me in shock. Near the shallow end, Grace’s nurse, Maria, stood up quickly, looking alarmed. Grace was sitting on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the water, her backup glasses fogged up from the humidity.
"Mom!" Grace called out, waving her hand. "Look! I can swim underwater now!"
I ran to her, throwing my arms around her wet, shivering body. I held her so tight she gasped.
"Erin? What's wrong?" Maria asked, rushing over with a towel. "Is everything okay?"
"Did anyone approach you?" I asked, my voice frantic as I looked around the pool deck. "A man. Tall, dark hair, scar near his left eye?"
Maria frowned, thinking. "No... nobody came near us. But... there was a man sitting at the tables over there about ten minutes ago. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He left a newspaper on the table."
I walked over to the table Maria pointed to.
Lying on the plastic chair was a folded copy of the local newspaper. Written in thick, black marker across the front page was a single sentence:
The truth hurts, but silence pays. $500,000 in an account in Grace's name if you walk away now.
I stared at the note. Ray was trying to bribe me. He wanted to buy my silence, using the very money he and my sister had stolen from his "death."
"Pack up, Maria," I said, my voice trembling but resolute. "We're checking out. Now."
We packed our things in under ten minutes. I paid Maria for her time, thanked her, and sent her home in an Uber. I couldn't risk anyone else getting dragged into this nightmare.
I drove Grace to my apartment. It was the only place left that felt somewhat safe, though I knew my family had the spare keys. The moment we walked in, I changed the deadbolts. I locked the windows. I drew the blinds.
Once Grace was settled in her room with her favorite audiobook, I sat at my laptop.
I didn't call Sarah. I didn't call the police. Not yet.
First, I needed to know the truth about my mother.
I accessed my father’s old medical clinic archives. As a licensed physician and a partner in his estate, I had medical board login credentials that allowed me to view historical billing and lawsuit registries. It took me three hours of digging through old legal databases from 2001.
And then, I found it.
Case No. 2001-CV-8849: Patient vs. Richard Vance, M.D.
It was a wrongful death lawsuit. A patient had died after a routine surgery my father had performed. The family had sued for negligence. The case was settled out of court for $1.2 million.
But what caught my eye was the funding source for the settlement.
The payment hadn't come from my father’s malpractice insurance. It had been paid in cash by a private entity called The Helen Vance Trust.
And the sole donor to that trust in 2001?
Raymond Vance.
My jaw dropped.
In 2001, Ray was only twenty-one years old. He wasn't wealthy yet. He was just a college student. How did he have $1.2 million to give to my mother?
Unless... it wasn't his money.
I stared at the screen, the horrific truth beginning to take shape. My mother hadn't just helped Lauren hide Ray's assets. This partnership between my mother and Ray had been going on for decades. Ray was my mother’s accomplice long before he ever married Lauren.
My phone rang.
It was my mother.
I answered it.
"Erin," she said. Her voice was completely different now. The faux-outrage was gone. She sounded cold, dead, and utterly vacant. "We need to talk. Come to the house tonight. Just you. If you don't, I will make sure the medical board receives a very interesting anonymous tip about your prescribing habits at the hospital."
May you like
I gasped. "You wouldn't."
"I built this family, Erin," my mother whispered. "And I will burn you to the ground before I let you destroy it. Ten o'clock. Don't be late."
