Chapter 1 - The Audit of Souls
Hook: He thought he buried his secrets with my sister. He didn't know I brought the shovels.
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”
The words didn't leave my mouth as a scream. They were cold, measured, and heavy enough to drop the temperature in the chapel by ten degrees.
Daniel’s eyes flicked from the gold federal badge in my hand to my face. For a fraction of a second, the polished, grieving-widow façade cracked. The man who had spent five years gaslighting my sister, skimming millions from his firm, and playing the role of the perfect son-in-law suddenly looked very small.
Beside him, Celeste let go of his arm as if it had turned into white-hot iron. She took a step back, her diamond bracelet clinking against her purse. "Daniel?" she whispered, her voice losing its smug edge. "What is this? You said she was just a small-town cop."
"Federal investigator," I corrected, stepping forward so that Daniel was forced to back up against the pew. "Financial Crimes, embedded with Homicide. And you, Celeste, are currently standing in a crime scene."
"Lena, stop this madness," Daniel hissed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as the murmurs from the pews grew louder. My mother was standing up now, supported by my uncle, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and sudden, desperate hope. "This is Maya’s funeral. Have some respect for your sister."
"Respect?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh that echoed off the stained glass. "You brought the woman you used to pay for hotel rooms with Maya’s credit card to her wake. You wore a suit that costs more than the medical bills you refused to pay for her high-risk pregnancy. Don't talk to me about respect, Daniel. You don't even know the definition of the word."
I reached into the inner pocket of my coat. Daniel flinched, thinking I was pulling a weapon. Instead, I pulled out a thick, legal-sized manila envelope. I didn't hand it to him. I dropped it right onto the lid of Maya’s white coffin. The heavy thud resonated through the silent room.
"What is that?" Daniel asked, his eyes glued to the paper.
"That is the paper trail of how you killed my sister," I said clearly, ensuring every single mourner in the chapel could hear me. "It starts three years ago when you opened an offshore account in the Cayman Islands under a shell company called 'Blue Water Holdings.' It documents the $2.4 million you embezzled from your clients. And most importantly, it contains the forensic toxicology report from the private autopsy I ordered before you could cremate her."
Daniel’s face drained of color. He went from pale to a sickly, translucent white. "The coroner ruled it a pulmonary embolism. A tragic complication of her third trimester. You're insane, Lena. You're letting grief break your mind."
"A pulmonary embolism caused by synthetic estrogen mimics introduced into her daily prenatal vitamins," I countered, taking another step closer until I could smell the expensive cologne on his neck—and the sweat breaking through it. "You didn't want a baby, Daniel. And you certainly didn't want a divorce that would split your assets and expose your embezzlement. You needed her gone. But you made one critical mistake."
He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. "And what was that?"
I leaned in, my voice a lethal whisper. "You forgot that while you were busy playing the mastermind, the quiet sister was auditing your life."
Before he could answer, the double doors of the chapel burst open again. This time, it wasn't late mourners. Four uniformed officers and two federal agents stepped into the light.
May you like
Daniel turned to run toward the side exit, but I grabbed his wrist with a grip that left bruises.
"Don't leave yet, Daniel," I whispered. "The sermon is just getting started."
