“I couldn’t let her destroy the family, Ethan,” Richard said, his voice cold and steady. “I took the epinephrine from her purse and put it in my pocket.”

“And you just watched her?” Ethan asked.

“By the time the paramedics arrived, it was over,” Richard said. “The coroner didn’t suspect a thing.”

The audio file ended with a soft click.

Silence fell over the penthouse.

The only sound was the rain lashing against the glass windows overlooking Lake Michigan.

My mother had died gasping for air while her husband stood over her, holding her medicine.

I felt a cold numbness spread from my chest down to my fingertips.

“He killed her,” I whispered.

“He did,” Vanessa said, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. “He killed her for the money, Claire.”

“And you hid this,” I said, turning on her. “You sat at her funeral, you looked at me, and you hid this.”

“I was protecting the family!” she screamed.

“You were protecting your inheritance,” I said.

“You have to help me now,” Vanessa pleaded, stepping closer. “If I give you this, you have to release the restriction on the trust.”