Chapter 2 - THE SOUND OF SHATTERED GLASS
The recording looping on my phone was the loudest sound in the room. Vivian lunged, her manicured claws aiming for the device, but I stepped back smoothly. The red heel that had been pinning my father slipped on the marble, sending her stumbling into the mahogany console.
"You think a fake audio clip means anything?" Vivian spat, recovering her balance though her mask of superiority was slipping.
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"I don't need to think," I replied, slipping the phone back into my tailored blazer. "The forensic accountant who matched your offshore transfers to the exact dates of my father's increased prescriptions did the thinking for me."
Marcus dropped his arrogant lean against the staircase. The gold watch on his wrist suddenly looked like a handcuff. He took a step toward me, his fists clenching, but froze when the heavy oak front doors swung open. Two Dallas Police Department detectives stepped into the foyer, flanked by EMTs. I had triggered the silent panic alarm in my car the moment I saw my father on the floor. The reign of the stepmother was officially over.
