Megan was wearing her heavy winter coat, looking perfectly healthy, with no sign of the cane she usually insisted on using.

Her eyes gleamed when she saw me approaching.

“That’s her,” Megan said, pointing a finger at me. “That’s the sister I told you about, Officer.”

“Ms. Vance?” Detective Miller asked, stepping in front of me.

“Yes, I’m Clara,” I said, trying to catch my breath in the freezing air. “What is going on here?”

“Your sister filed a formal report stating you’ve been storing stolen industrial copper and commercial breakers in the basement,” the detective said.

“That’s a lie,” I said, looking past him at Megan. “She’s trying to ruin me because I found out about her faking her illness.”

My mother stepped forward, her face twisted in anger.

“Don’t you dare lie about your sister, Clara,” she spat. “She’s the victim here, and you’ve been hoarding stolen goods to pay off this building.”

“We have a warrant to search the basement storage unit, Ms. Vance,” Detective Miller said, holding up a sheet of paper.

“Go ahead,” I said, pulling my key ring from my pocket. “I have nothing to hide.”